Thicker Than Water
by Mommints
Summary: An ancient enemy believed to have vanished from the Sahara rises again & threatens war, demanding the release of a warrior accused of murder. Say it ain't so, but here's the conclusion...or is it? [evil grin] Please r&r? Thanks! ps double shot...
1. Default Chapter

_Disclaimer: The character of __Ardeth__Bay__ and the name Medjai belong to Stephen Sommers and Universal Studios. No infringement intended. All other characters belong to the author, and are copyrighted. Many thanks to Ladybug for allowing me to use and abuse her boys – no worries, I'll treat them kindly. And many thanks to my beta, Tori. Please, if you want to use an idea or borrower a character, let me know and of course, feedback is greatly appreciated. Email Mommint@msn.com. _

_I would also like to acknowledge the research that A __Jackson__ did for me regarding this story and yes, this has appeared elsewhere. She came up with the tribe names and the history of the __Sahara__, and she assisted me with one scene in the story. Fair is fair and I gladly give credit where credit is due. _

_The Rwalla-Hunud do not exist and in fact were two separate tribes. I combined them along with the Berber names that I've chosen for some of the characters - no offense intended for twisting around historical facts for the purpose of this story. Finally, this tale could technically take place after "Somewhere In Time"…I hope you enjoy. __J_

_Rated: PG-13_

_~*~_

_Blood's thicker than water, and when one's in trouble  
Best to seek out a relative's open arms.  
~Euripides_

_In time of test, family is best. ~ Burmese Proverb_

_Live together like brothers, and do business like strangers. ~ Arabic proverb_

_~*~_

_Prologue_

They became friends before they were old enough to realize that they were enemies.

Three boys, each in the tenth summer of their lives, had met under the most unlikely of circumstances and despite the hatred that had existed for thousands of years between their tribes…

… despite the cultural differences…

… and away from the prejudicial eyes of their elders…

… a Medjai, a Tuareg and a Rwalla-Hunud were able to temporarily escape the constraints of their individual destinies. They played together as boys of their age often did, and the days of their youth were filled with mock war games and exploring. 

As the years passed, they went from innocent childhood into the awkward years of their youth, and yet they managed to keep the friendship between them intact, untainted by the numerous political upheavals around them. 

~*~

When the hatred between the Medjai and Tuareg escalated three months ago, and the Elders of the latter enthusiastically called for war, the three friends decided to meet for one last time to say farewell to one another. It had become too much of a risk to keep their association a secret any longer. 

Once where it had been three boys who met secretively in the desert, they were young warriors now; age had laid the cloak of maturity on their shoulders and they all carried it well. 

Their reunion was bittersweet and short.

However unbeknownst to the young men, a small war party had followed the Rwalla-Hunud warrior and had spied on the meeting in progress. They attacked and in the ensuing chaos, the Tuareg had managed to escape but the Medjai had been captured and blamed for the death of the Rwalla-Hunud named Tabari-Yervant. 

For three months he was held captive – tortured, beaten and starved. They tried to break his spirit and force a confession but the warrior had steadfastly refused, claiming his innocence during each interrogation. 

The Tuareg named Drevick Moubaye did not abandon his remaining friend. With a fierce loyalty that was well-known among his people and often admired, he petitioned his father to aid the Medjai. Again and again, he appeared before the council of the tribes and pleaded with them to intervene on his behalf. But his requests fell on deaf ears.

The Tuareg were preparing for a war with the Medjai and nothing could dissuade them, not even the chieftain's son. 

Afraid that his friend would eventually die at the hands of the Rwalla-Hunud, Drevick decided to act on his own.

With a small party of his own hand-picked warriors, he set out one day shortly before dawn and rode towards the infamous Il Wasi Qa'a" or Medjai stronghold. He carried within his heart the hope that his appearance there would not incite a war but instead, goad the chieftain Ardeth Bay to finally act. 

And rescue the Medjai named Reyhan Abbasi…half brother to Commander Nabil al Fa'ud.


	2. Part I

_Part I_

Jameel ibn Hisein shared the night watch with another warrior named Madjy Othman and as his reputation often preceded him, Jameel took the opportunity to lift his gaze upwards and stare at his beloved stars.

It was exceptionally clear and brilliant this night, nary a cloud to mar the smooth velvet sky studded with thousands of twinkling lights. The moon hung low and well rounded, casting its silver light over the sleeping city and adding to the enchantment.

T'was a night for lovers…for young men to court the women of their dreams with soft poetic words and promises of undying adoration. 

Jameel drew in a deep breath, and recognized the faint scents of honeysuckle and wild jasmine that grew in the gardens just beyond the south wall. A cool breeze playfully drifted in from the West, gently tousling the warrior's curls like a woman's affectionate caress. He smiled to himself, hoping that once his shift was over, that he too would be able to find a _mara_ who would listen patiently as he described the qualities of the stars and constellations. 

Talk was sparse on the shift but Jameel had found that with Madjy, their lengthy silences were anything but uncomfortable. One spoke, one would listen as they shared stories or rumors that had been heard from warriors visiting from distant tribes. And when the conversation lulled, there was no hurry to fill in the void – no words were needed to mar the perfection of the silence. 

Jameel estimated that it must have been around midnight when he first felt the tiny pinpricks of unease decompose his sense of well-being. What was it that often captured his attention and drew his dark gaze to roam over the landscape?

What made his hand rest on the hilt of his scimitar, his eyes narrow as he sought what had caused this strange unease within him? Madjy must have felt Jameel's growing restlessness and although they talked about it, tried to understand it – nothing was resolved.

"Something is not right. I can feel it in the air." Jameel had no evidence to support his concerns and he glanced over at Madjy with a rueful smile on his face. 

"You probably think I am being too cautious or taking my duty too seriously."

Madjy shook his head and faced the desert landscape, his dark eyes raking over the sand and endless rolling sea of dunes. "Trust your instincts. From the stories you tell, they have served you well in the past."

Jameel sighed and shook his head, a frown marring his features. "There is nothing out there, ya sahib and I am acting foolish."

Madjy didn't reply but instead, walked over to Jameel, his hand resting on his weapon. They stood shoulder to shoulder, and remained alert and poised for what was gathering in the darkness.

Suddenly a cold and fierce wind blew in from the north, swirling around the warriors and wildly whipping the ends of their robes. It battered their bodies, stole the air from their lungs and moaned and screamed as if it were a beast in great pain. 

The formerly clear and pristine orb of the moon was shadowed and covered with thick, boiling black clouds. The beauty that was once the night evaporated as evil seemed to invade every sense, easily suffocating and blanketing the world.

Jameel struggled to breathe and pulled up his face covering as the wind continued to torment them. He stood against it, supporting Madjy just as the other warrior supported him. When they could no longer stand the noise or the force of the currents, the wind abruptly faded away and left both of the warriors gasping for air. 

"What in the name of Allah was that?" Madjy asked hoarsely, as he pulled down his face covering and walked around checking the perimeters of the post.

Jameel shook his head as he uncovered his face, but an odd noise caught his attention and he turned towards the north. He uttered an oath of surprise a moment later and gestured for Madjy to come look.

The clouds had departed and once again the silver light of the moon bathed the world below in its revealing and ethereal glow. 

Lined up on a distant ridge were fifty riders dressed in black, their long war spears spiking up into the night sky, the mark of the red hand displayed on their breastplate, proudly proclaiming their identity. 

Jameel felt a shiver of dread race down his spine and he knew that each horse carried that same red mark on its hindquarters, that each rider wore battle armor that covered most of their body. Only a small portion of the face remained visible but no warrior had ever gotten close enough to gaze fully upon the face of the Rwalla-Hunud. To do so would mean certain death.

"We must inform Chieftain Bay of this as soon as possible," Madjy said as he stared at the sight before them, "we must tell him that the Rwalla-Hunud are on the war path this night."

"Aiwa and may Allah help us all," Jameel murmured. 

~*~

"Chieftain Bay, the Tuareg delegation will not be deterred and insist that you speak with them." Counselor Abdul-Hafiz hurried after the warrior, looking very much like a crane flapping its wings as he waved his arms in the air in agitation.

"Ignoring them will not make them go away," he added on.

"Ah, nothing escapes the sharp eye of my most trusted Elder and Counselor," Ardeth replied dryly and glanced back at the man following him. "If the Tuareg have waited this long to speak with me, surely they can wait a few hours longer. I have more important matters to attend to."

Ardeth purposely strode through the long, narrow hallways of the citadel, well aware that he was already late for a mid-morning meeting with two of his commanders and sub-commanders. The topic of discussion was the very people that Abdul-Hafiz was referring to since the threat of war loomed dangerously on the horizon. 

"Normally I would agree, ya ra'is but perhaps the wisest course of action would be to talk to the Tuareg. Their leader is a chieftain's son and he is quite persistent, claiming he brings news of great importance."

Ardeth abruptly stopped walking and turned around. Abdul-Hafiz bumped into him and profusely apologized. 

"What news could he possibly bring?" Ardeth hissed and leaned close to the counselor's face, his dark eyes glittering with anger. "Does he wish to talk about the recent raids on the neighboring villages near the Medjai or how many women and children have been killed? Or does he wish to chat over tea and discuss the burning of crops and slaughter of animals – these are all acts of war, Counselor. These people were under the protection of the Medjai and by the Tuareg attacking them, in essence they have attacked us."

Abdul-Hafiz threw up his hands in surrender, almost backing away from Ardeth's cold fury. "I am not disputing the stories that you have heard in the past few days but what I am suggesting is that you listen to this young man, for the love of Allah. We must try to find a peaceful solution to all of this before there is any more bloodshed."

"On that, we are agreed on," Ardeth replied grimly and turned on his heel, spinning away from the older man. "Tell the Tuareg that I shall meet with them shortly, after I have talked to my commanders. And tell them to pray to whatever gods they worship that I have managed to talk my warriors out of any acts of retribution. For now…"

Abdul-Hafiz sighed and bowed his head. "As you wish," he murmured. He turned and ran back down the hallway towards the room where the Tuareg impatiently waited, wondering how they would take this new delay. 

~*~

It was a cruel trick and one he was helpless to do anything about.

His role in this farce had to be played out no matter the consequences. 

He held onto the pommel of the saddle with both hands, and ignored the blood that ran freely down his wrists from the ropes that were cutting viciously into his skin. His weakened and beaten body swayed in the saddle while his vision blurred and faded only to clear up once again. 

His will to remain conscious was rapidly fading away, like his strength, yet he continued to fight against the restraints. He tugged on the ropes, desperate to be able to reach up and remove the gag from his mouth, to tear off the offending robes they had dressed him in. It was a trick meant to confuse the Medjai guards posted around the citadel, with the irony of it all not lost on him in the least.

They had released him with no food, water or weapons and knew that the guards would kill him on sight. For how else could he answer their call or give them his true identity if he was bound and gagged?

The wound in his shoulder suddenly flared up with a breath-stealing intensity and darkness nipped at the edges of his consciousness. He finally surrendered and his body slumped forward across the horse's mane as it continued plodding forward. 

In his dreams, he saw the friends of his youth and for a brief moment his joy knew no bounds. But the dream quickly became a nightmare when Drevick and Tabari-Yervant were killed.

And he was unable to help them…

~*~

In a spacious chamber located at the end of one hallway, the chieftain of the Medjai and his warriors sat around a small oval table, and discussed the recent and alarming events that had taken place over the past few days.

Ardeth had quietly listened to the commander of the Tribe of the Third relay the incredible news that another village had been attacked, the claim made even more valid by eye-witness accounts. 

"Are you certain of this, Jericho?" Ardeth asked the commander. In his hands he held a signed statement from a witness claiming who had been responsible for the attack on the village of Sohag, north of the el-Kharga oasis. 

Sohag had been a quiet little town, mostly a small farming community with less than one thousand people in its population. The inhabitants had been peaceful and hard working and according to the statement they were easily cut down like ripe wheat by the enemy. 

"The mark of the Rwalla-Hunud will not be readily forgotten by this woman. Like a brand, it will forever be burned into her memory. They killed her family, destroyed her home and all that she had held dear." Jericho stated firmly and looked around at the warriors who had assembled for the meeting. His gaze momentarily rested briefly on his sub-commander and friend, Dharr al Rushdi, then went back to Ardeth.

"The Rwalla-Hunud…" Ardeth murmured disbelievingly and rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand. "I thought they no longer existed."

"We all know the stories, ya ra'is," Nabil al Fa'ud spoke up, his gray eyes clouded with concern. "Ancient myths and legends that tell of a warrior race of people so savage and blood-thirsty, they had almost destroyed the Tuareg nation in an epic war thousands of years ago. It has been written in the tribal chronicles that the Tuareg survived only from the intervention of our warriors and in a battle that lasted seven days, their combined forces were finally able to drive the Hunud from the Sahara. We all know of the tentative truce that blossomed from that action between our nation and the Tuareg…"

"They were grateful for our involvement," Berin al Usama casually interjected and shrugged his broad shoulders. "Apparently they are no longer."

"Over time, we all know the truce collapsed, and we have been rivals with the Tuareg ever since," Jericho said.

"Could it be that the Medjai have remained unawares that the Rwalla-Hunud have remained hidden in the desert all this time, recovering from their losses as they slowly grew stronger?" Dharr wondered. 

"They have been behind the raids," Ardeth concluded and suddenly stood up to pace around the table as he continued thinking about his theory. 

"What better way to incite a war between two old rivals than for one to blame the other for crimes that neither committed?"

"Did you not say that a small party of Tuareg was waiting to speak to you?" Nabil asked Ardeth. 

"Go and talk to them," Ardeth commanded Nabil and Berin. "Find out what they want, stall for time, do anything you have to, but wait until I get there. There is something I must do first."

"As you wish," Nabil and Berin stood, bowed to Ardeth and then hurried from the room. 

"Jericho, I want to go and talk to Jameel and Madjy. We need to review their report from the other night once more," Ardeth commanded. Dharr, I want you to alert all of the captains on duty this night and tell them of what you know so far…and then report back to me at once."

"Aiwa, ya ra'is," Dharr bowed and left the room. 

Jericho lingered for a moment, his concern evident by the expression on his face. "Why would the Rwalla-Hunud do this?" he asked softly. "Why kill innocent people and place the blame on the Tuareg? Why and to what purpose?"

Ardeth walked over to Jericho and placed a comforting hand on his trusted commander's shoulder. "That is what we need to find out, ya ukh… and quickly before any more lives are lost."

~*~

_The horse was trotting…_

… and it was the jarring motion of its gait that rudely brought him out of the calm sea of unconsciousness that he had been floating in, relatively free of pain.

But with a muffled grunt of pain he pulled his body upright. He shook his head to clear his vision and concluded that the animal must have smelled a source of water nearby and quickened its pace. 

Water meant that there may be a well…a well meant civilization and he lifted his gaze up, horrified to see the walls of the city were far closer that he realized. He weakly struggled against the ropes, and fresh blood dripped down his arms and onto the saddle. He strained against them when he realized he could see quite clearly the guards walking around their posts and he prayed that somehow, they would be able to see him for what he truly was and not the threat he appeared to be. 

~*~

"You lie," one guard scoffed at his companion. "No one has ever been able to defeat Amid in a game of Jackals and Hounds. He wins every time."

The second guard quickly shook his head. "I do not lie – I have watched Safwan Dabir defeat every challenger with ease. I tell you, he is better than Amid and we should schedule a game to prove it."

The first guard laughed and started pacing around their post. "If we ever get re-assigned from our duty. No one told me how boring this was to remain on watch for an entire day, with nothing to do…and no one to talk too."

"I am no one?" the other guard asked, irritated with his friend. "If you are yearning for something to occupy your time, practice your marksmanship and shoot anything that moves out in the desert. I am sure none of the captains will mind a little target practice."

The first guard shrugged his shoulders at the suggestion but nevertheless held up his rifle and peered through the site. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw a lone rider approaching, the horse clearing the crest of one dune. 

"A rider draws near from the north and is headed straight for us," he exclaimed and slowly pulled back the trigger. 

"Hold your fire until he gets closer," the second guard snapped. "I want to make sure that he is not an ally."

"All one has to do is look at his robes, and at the markings on the saddle and bridle ornaments – he is an outlaw."

The second guard smiled maliciously and glanced down the walkway, making certain no one else would witness the horrible deed that they were about to perform. 

"Then shoot him."

~*~

He moaned despite the gag in his mouth and frantically yanked on his hands, his gaze riveted to the warrior that he could see standing at his post. Fractions of light bounced off of the shiny barrel of the weapon as it was leveled and aimed directly at him. He tried to guide the horse away from the line of fire but the animal was exhausted and intent on reaching its goal and he was too weak to further command it.

With one last mighty effort, he threw all of his weight backwards and pulled on the ropes and felt them give slightly. He leaned forward again and a second later he heard the loud crack of the rifle. He looked up and saw a plume of white smoke drift into the air and a second later, he felt the bullet slam into his body.

The momentum propelled him backwards, effectively severing the weakened ropes and he tumbled over the back of the horse. He hit the ground hard and had the air almost knocked out of him when he landed on his bruised ribs although he tried to roll with the fall. 

He came to a dusty stop a few moments later, lying on his stomach with his hands painfully wedged beneath his battered body. Agony unlike any he had ever known coursed through him and he welcomed the black void that enveloped him, covering him like a death shroud.


	3. Part II

_Part II _

Nabil shook his head and reached over to restrain Berin from going after the Tuareg warrior. The meeting was not going as well has he had expected. Then again, he could hardly blame Berin for his actions.

Old beliefs die hard and the Tuareg were still the enemy and both Medjai warriors felt that they had a lot to atone for.

"I came here to share information that will hopefully save a life," the Tuareg in charge snapped. He surged against the hands of his men that held him back and jerked himself free. 

"I should have known the sanctimonious Medjai would be too stupid to listen, preferring to pass judgment first," he added on.

"We have not rendered any judgment," Berin growled and reached for his scimitar, a grim smile dancing across his face. "We already know what you are and I welcome the chance to send your soul to hell."

The other Tuareg warriors answered Berin's challenge with one of their own as angry shouts filled the room and they simultaneously pulled their weapons free. It didn't seem to matter to the combatants that the Medjai were outnumbered by four, blood was going to be spilled and war would soon ravage the land.

"Haji! Enough!" Nabil shouted. He stepped in front of Berin just as a Tuareg had launched forward with the intent of burying his blade deep within the sub-commander's chest. Nabil blocked the deadly blow with startling ease with his own blade and the room abruptly fell into a stunned silence.

"I highly doubt the Tuareg called for this meeting just so they could die by our hands, ya ukh," Nabil calmly talked to Berin but his gray stormy gaze impaled the Tuareg with its intensity. 

"Perhaps we should let them speak."

"I would rather kill them," Berin smirked. His arm held his scimitar point out, silently taunting anyone to come close enough to feel its lethal bite.

"And I would rather tell you about the fate of one of your own and the danger that he is in," the Tuareg leader stepped forward. He slowly sheathed his blade and glanced over his shoulder, smiling slightly when he saw his men reluctantly do the same. 

"You mentioned something about saving a life earlier," Nabil reminded the warrior.

"I did and if the rumors and reports are true, they have released him as a trick but will be coming after him and soon, charging him with a crime he did not commit. And nothing," his gaze slashed to Berin and then back to Nabil, "not even the coveted skill of your most experienced warriors will protect him from their wrath."

"You speak in riddles when we cannot allow the time for such childish games," Berin growled impatiently.

The Tuareg leader surprised the Medjai by ordering all of his men except his second in command to leave the room, a gesture of good will that he was relieved to see had been well-met. The two imposing warriors that stood in front of him hardly seemed impressed with his action but nevertheless sheathed their weapons. They waited expectantly for what he had to say and he drew in a deep breath, his gaze focused on the commander.

"Three months ago, a Medjai was captured by the Rwalla-Hunud," he began.

~*~

Ardeth and Jericho found Jameel and Madjy in the south end of the city, eating their midday meal in a local kitchen well-known for its good food and the motherly attention that the owner paid her customers. 

For the sake of comfort, Ardeth had forgone the traditional robes of a chieftain and reverted back to the warrior style of dress. Long, flowing black robes molded his muscular physique and emphasized his underlining strength. Belts and bandoleers adorned his broad chest, crossing over the other in an 'x', and his scimitar was strapped to one side. His turban partially covered the long, thick wavy hair that hung down to his shoulders and the face-covering hid the unintentionally harsh expression on his face.

Once they had tethered their horses to a nearby post, Jericho reached over and tapped Ardeth's shoulder. 

"You may want to remove this," he gestured to the covering with a slight grin. Although he was older than Ardeth, and therefore his elder, Jericho was one of the rare warriors that had managed to attain a relaxed camaraderie with the chieftain. He often used humor as a way to defuse a tense situation.

"While Jameel has had the privilege of enjoying your company in less formal situations, this will be the first time Madjy has seen his king outside of the warriors' forum. You're going to scare the poor boy," he said with a chuckle.

Ardeth blinked in surprise and pulled down the covering. "Are you saying that my presence is intimidating?" he asked with a grin. 

Jericho motioned for Ardeth to precede him. "Aiwa," he simply replied.

"I am not intimidating," Ardeth quickly denied, and then frowned when he heard Jericho's snort of disbelief. 

"You are his sovereign, and according to the ancient chronicles, you are a legend come to life," Jericho droned on, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. 

"Madjy will fairly tremble in your presence," he continued with a chuckle. 

"Will you stop?" Ardeth shook his head and laughed as they stopped at the gate that led to the outdoor eating area of the building. Through the wrought iron fencing, they could see that Salma Aludra's kitchen was doing a brisk business today. Most of the small tables were occupied; the majority of the patrons being people that lived in the surrounding neighborhood. The two warriors that Ardeth and Jericho were looking for were easily spotted at a table situated in a far off corner.

Unable to resist as they wove their way through the courtyard, Ardeth had to add one last jibe, "I knew I should have overruled the Elders' decision and built that dungeon anyway. Then I could have you thrown in there to test out one of the cells," he muttered. 

Jericho was saved from replying when the owner of the eatery spied her newest arrivals and stopped to stare at them in astonishment. 

"By my ancestors' tombs, now here is a warrior that my poor eyes have not seen in many a day," Salma Aludra said as she theatrically placed a hand over her heart. 

Ardeth winced slightly, and braced himself for what was to come next. "Sallim 'ala Salma," he said with a slight bow. "I agree it has been far too long since we last…"

"And what is this?" she interrupted him and as fast as her ample figure would allow, hurried over to Ardeth, her hands gesturing at his body. "You are far too thin to suit me. Have you not been eating properly? Do not reply, I can answer that question just by looking at you."

"Sallim 'ala Salma," Jericho parroted with a grin, clearly enjoying the scolding Ardeth was receiving from the old woman. "I see you are in good health."

Salma glared at Jericho as she enveloped Ardeth in a motherly hug, and then pushed the warrior back, still inspecting his appearance with a critical eye. 

"I am not speaking to you, Commander ibn Sakhr, since you have failed to live up to your promise. When was the last time my humble establishment was honored by your presence?" she asked and patted Ardeth's ribs.

"A thousand pardons for my lapse," Jericho murmured and bowed to Salma, slowly backing away. He coughed to hide his laughter as Ardeth danced away from Salma's hands. 

"Both of you will have something to eat right now," she ordered them and gestured for the servers to bring something from the kitchen.

"Salma, I am here to speak with two of my warriors," Ardeth slowly and carefully extracted himself away from the older woman's hands. He turned and hissed at Jericho. "You are leaving me to fend for myself, eh?"

"And where is it?" Salma gestured to Ardeth's left wrist as the warrior's backed away. "Where is the binding thread that symbolizes the union of a man and woman? You are still unmarried?"

"I am running," Jericho whispered back to Ardeth and then impulsively grabbed his chieftain by the collar of his robe. "Never let it be said that I would leave you to a fate worse than death."

"Oh merciful Allah, grant me the divine patience when dealing with these two obstinate warriors." Salma lifted her hands in supplication to the heavens.

"You love me, old woman…admit it," Ardeth grinned despite the fact that he was stumbling backwards as Jericho dragged him along. 

"Never," Salma waved her hands at the retreating warriors. "I will never admit such a thing. Now stop wasting my time and let me get back to my business. Oh hulu Allah, he is still unmarried."

As Ardeth and Jericho approached Jameel's table, they could still hear Salma lamenting in the kitchen about the distressing state of affairs, and that her king was still without his queen.

~*~

"Do we tell the captain on watch?" the first guard asked as he lowered his rifle. The body was lying motionless on the sand, and the horse was now running towards one of the gates.

"We can wait until our shift is over," the second guard replied nonchalantly. "The warriors at the front will take care of the horse, most likely thinking it was lost from a Tuareg raid or passing caravan."

The first guard stared at the carcass, not sure what bothered him more – the ease he had felt in squeezing the trigger or the callous attitude from the other guard. 

"What about the body?"

The second guard laughed, shook his head and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "What body?"

~*~

"How did you come by this information and how do you know about Abbasi?" Nabil asked. 

For the past hour, both he and Berin had listened in amazement to Drevick's tale and its many tendrils.

A secret friendship between enemies.

The presumed fate of the missing warrior.

And… what an ancient and powerful enemy was plotting and preparing to do. 

"You can rest easily in knowing that all of my information was gleaned from outside sources - there are no spies within your tribes," Drevick said. 

"For the full identity of the warrior Abbasi, do I get to beat it out of you?" Berin asked hopefully with a wicked gleam in his eyes. 

Drevick's eyes widened at that comment and although he quickly assured his subordinate there was no need for alarm, he prayed that the scowling sub-commander would be so easily appeased. 

"My people are scattered across the land, warrior, and not all of us are as bloodthirsty as our reputation dictates. We often are impartial witnesses to the events that transpire in the desert or towns, yet we often choose to remain silent in regards to them. We have no desire to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. We have been aware of the fate of Abbasi for quite some time, but after my pleas to my father for aid fell on deaf ears, I decided to act on my own."

"What tribe does Abbasi hail from?" Nabil asked impatiently, tired of the impromptu history lesson and speech.

"He comes from the Twelfth and more importantly, after our ill-fated meeting, he was going to journey to the tribe of the Fifth to see you, Commander. He wanted to meet his half brother," Drevick stated quietly.

Nabil's eyes blinked in surprise. "What did you say?" he asked incredulously. 

"Reyhan had intentions of seeking an audience with you, once he had learned of his heritage prior to his ume's passing. He never knew the existence of an older brother…never knew that you were related and he wanted nothing more than to hopefully be reunited with you. You are all that is left of his family."

"But the Rwalla-Hunud intervened and has somehow framed Reyhan for the murder of their warrior," Berin surmised. He placed a comforting hand on Nabil's shoulder, astutely guessing at the inner turmoil his friend must have felt. 

"My assumption would be that one of their own did it since they would enjoy nothing more than to see two very old adversaries go to war against one another. That would leave them unfettered to fulfill their own plans. With my people and the Medjai engaged and each depleting their resources, the Hunud could then sweep in and wipe out all resistance from both nations with a few well-timed battles and raids."

"And become the predominant power in the desert," Berin concluded hoarsely. He glanced over at Nabil, his heart aching for the look of disbelief on his saHib's face. 

"Please believe me when I say that my primary concern is for Reyhan," Drevick pleaded quietly. "I have already lost one friend. I do not intend to lose another."

"So you came here looking for our support in this matter?" Nabil asked. He shoved a hand through his hair, still refusing to believe that Reyhan was his half brother. The treachery of his English father had left a bitter memory in his heart, a wound that had finally healed but now had been carelessly reopened by one simple act.

Reyhan wanted to meet him…

"I came here to save a life, and to warn you of the Rwalla-Hunud's intentions," Drevick replied. "They want war, and it is my belief that they will somehow use Reyhan as the catalyst."

~*~

At first Salma was a troubling but well-intentioned presence as she hovered around the table, and made certain that all the warriors had been fed well. She gleefully ignored Ardeth's growing sighs of impatience for a good while before finally leaving them in peace. 

Ardeth and Jericho took turns questioning both of the warriors, but eventually grew frustrated when neither one could elaborate any further than what they had already stated in their report to the captain on duty.

Ardeth was almost ready to give up when a messenger appeared at the table and delivered a note. He opened the parchment and frowned a few moments later, the coincidental timing of it not lost on him.

"Bad news?" Jericho asked. 

"Kull min intu ija ma'I, a horse has appeared at the gates located near the north end of the city and the saddle is covered in blood." Ardeth said and rose up from the table. "Considering the events of last night, I find this most troubling indeed."

~*~

_Translation: _

_Kull__ min intu ija ma'I – roughly means all of you come with me_

~*~

_A/N – I'm so very happy to see these reviews and greatly appreciate the feedback and the interest expressed to still read my stories. You've made this old lady quite happy.  Lol _

_On to the shout-outs:_

**_Dawn – _**_Ardeth will indeed react to one of his warriors being so callously shot, laws yes we loves a forceful Ardeth.  Is it a bad thing that I'm listening to the ROTK soundtrack as I write the parts for this story? *eg*  _

**_SerenaFehr_****_ – _**_The__ Rwalla-Hunud are ruthless and blood thirsty and in the coming parts, we'll see how far the push the great Medjai Chieftain before he pushes back. Thanks for reading.  *g*_

**_Jax_****_ – _**_Ask and ye shall receive, I almost caught myself current with your lovely fanfic.  Fluff is good for the soul, even for one as evil as me.  *eg*_

_Thanks for reading._

_As for the Euripides quote, welll…um I did a search for it because I had always heard the impartial phrase blood is thicker than water, and it's always especially true when dealing with in-laws.  LOL If you want, I can send you the link for the site that contains thousands of other cool quotes as well. _

**_Ladybug1 - _**_*blinks* I do believe you're the first person that's ever called a pair of my characters jerk-wads and I'll take that as a compliment.  LOL And shukran for letting me "play" with your crew…as always…_

**_Karri – _**_thanks for the review and make sure your buckled in to your seat and hanging on for dear life. This story and the Rwalla-Hunud are heavily influenced by LOTR and of course, inspired by the movie soundtracks.  _

__


	4. Part III

_Part III_

The horse stood passively in the center of the street, and hung its head low from most likely exhaustion, as the warriors inspected the markings on the shopand and edfra. When their hands discovered the tacky maroon substance around the neck, Ardeth frowned and gingerly touched the stain, then held his fingers up for the others to see.

"See how freely it still runs? It has yet to congeal," he murmured. 

"The markings indicate that the horse belongs to perhaps a tribe of renegades but I have discovered bloodied fibers of rope around the pommel," Jericho said. "Something was tied to the pommel… or considering the blood does not appear to be the horse… _someone_ was tied to this horse and this would suggest it was against their will," he said as he twirled the reddened threads.

"Have there been any disturbances reported over the past two hours?" Ardeth called out to the captain on duty. 

"There has been nothing unusual except for the report of a rifle being fired perhaps an hour ago, ya ra'is. When questioned, the warrior on duty claimed that he had been cleaning his weapon when it accidentally discharged," the captain replied. 

"Cleaning a weapon while on duty…that is odd," Ardeth thoughtfully murmured.

"What do you make of this?" Jericho asked. He watched Jameel as he removed the blood covered saddle and handed it to Madjy while another guard came forward and finally took the animal to the barn area to be cooled down and fed. 

"A shot was heard but there is no reason…a horse comes in bearing the marks of an enemy yet there is no rider," Ardeth mused. 

"If I may, my kin…" Madjy spoke up, still slightly nervous in Ardeth's presence. "Ya ra'is, we need to go on the hunt and ride around the perimeter of the north wall to check for any breaches in security. We can no longer ignore the obvious – whether it be friend or foe, someone may have been seriously injured." 

"Agreed," Ardeth said the expression on his face cold and hard. He ordered the captain to bring the horses and turned his dark gaze out to the desert, expecting to see the Rwalla lurking nearby…

The empty landscape seemed to mock his concerns.

~*~

A group of twenty warriors, led by Ardeth, thundered out of the city and rode for several feet before fanning out in a line as they began the search. Details were sketchy but the warriors didn't hesitate in their duty - their chieftain had asked for their assistance of which they freely gave without question. Since the attention of the riders was directed elsewhere, no one saw the two guards who were intently watching them, and a moment later they broke into a heated argument. 

The warriors methodically covered each square foot of the desert, leaving no stone unturned, as a cloud of apprehension hung in the air. A shout went up when carrion birds were sighted pin-wheeling effortlessly in the sky above and the search intensified. The warriors then used the birds of prey as a beacon and another cry went up when a body was discovered lying at the bottom of a small hill.

The warriors brought their horses to an abrupt and dusty stop. Ardeth and Jericho jumped down, and were closely flanked by Jameel and Madjy as they crept up to the strange man lying face down in the sand. For all appearances, he was dressed in the robes that indicated an outlaw.

Scimitars were drawn as the group cautiously moved forward.

Jameel pointed his blade at the back of the man's head while Madjy cautiously stood next to him and nudged the body with one foot. When there was no reaction, he knelt down and flipped the body over.

"Allah kan ir-raHman," Madjy groaned in disbelief and turned to Ardeth and Jericho. "He is Medjai."

Jericho bent down on the other side of Madjy and almost frantically pulled at the warrior's gag, his eyes as cold and as black as the darkest night. It was an atrocity, what had been done to one of their own and he drew his dagger, slashing through the red-stained ropes that bound the warrior's wrists. He barely acknowledged Ardeth as he handed him a canteen and cradling the limp body against him, Jericho splashed cool water on the warrior's face. 

Ardeth pressed two fingers against the warrior's neck and gave a heavy sigh of relief a moment later. "He lives, Al hamdu lillah."

He quickly checked the warrior for any other injuries and when bullet wound was eventually exposed, Ardeth's jaw clenched in anger. 

"It is obvious that the shot came from the north tower," he snapped. "This warrior was riding towards the city and hit in the chest."

"I will personally conduct the investigation, ya ra'is," Jericho stated and looked back at the guard post. His own temper flared up when he realized that who ever had shot this warrior had planned on leaving him to his fate. Any man of honor or any warrior would never violate their oath and do such a thing.

Ardeth shook his head. "Take the warrior to the healers and stay with him. I will start the inquiry among the guards on duty this day," he gently contradicted Jericho. 

Jameel had been tearing strips from his robe and had offered Madjy what assistance he could to help stop the bleeding. "We need to move him now," he said as he tied off the ends of one bandage. 

They carried the warrior to Jericho's horse and once the commander was seated, they lifted and settled the warrior in front of him. The warrior groaned from the movement and his head rolled to one side, the sound prompting gentle hushing noises from Jericho.

"Sahil ya ukh, sahil. You are among your warrior brothers now and we will take care of you," he murmured. 

"Go, do not wait for us. I shall join you later after I conduct my investigation," Ardeth said. He reached up and touched Jericho's leg, silently wondering how the abuse of this warrior would affect his commander. It was well-known in the warrior sect that Jericho deeply cared for those in his command, and often took the death of a warrior quite hard. 

"Find who did this, ya sahib," Jericho pleaded to Ardeth. "Find them for me."

He waited until Ardeth nodded his compliance and then urged Bahir into a quick walk, heading towards the city as the others followed in his wake. 

Ardeth pulled Jameel and Madjy to the side and knew he had surprised both of them when he informed them that they would be helping him.

~*~

News traveled quickly through the intricate network of gossip that prevailed in the city and when Nabil had received word of Ardeth and Jericho's rescue of a warrior found in the desert, he abruptly ended the meeting.

He kept his opinions to himself, dismayed when Drevick and his subordinate Yousef volunteered to ride with them, and left Berin to handle them in case it was needed. No one could argue with that logic especially when Berin seemed to take great delight in reminding Drevick about the numerous advantages he held over the younger man, size being merely one of them.

Nabil was still inwardly reeling from the news about a half brother and when the warriors reached the healer's building, he wasn't ready for what he was about to witness.

The horses came to an abrupt stop in front of them, and Jericho shouted for assistance when the warrior in front of him suddenly slumped. People rushed forward, holding Bahir steady while others gently lifted the limp body down and carried it in to the building. 

Jericho went after them as Nabil stayed off to one side, a reluctant spectator to the proceedings. He knew Berin remained by his side but never could he have been prepared for what Drevick would suddenly confirm with one simple sentence. 

"Reyhan," the young Tuareg said with deep sadness, "my friend, what have they done to you?"

~*~

Ardeth, Jameel and Madjy rode back to the north guard post and contacted the captain on duty, explaining what had just happened. When questioned on the whereabouts' of the two guards, the captain seemed surprised by the actions of his warriors but quickly called for all of those on duty to report to him at once. 

While waiting for the warriors to assemble, Ardeth paced in front of Jameel and Madjy, his face indifferent to the growing anger he felt blossoming inside. He would find those responsible for committing this heinous act that violated their warrior oath and the guilty parties would be punished as he saw fit.

"What about Jericho? He should be present for this," Jameel said. 

"For now, it is best that Jericho remains with the warrior. Too often have I cautioned him about caring too deeply for the welfare of his warriors. Each time there is a death, a piece of Jericho is lost and if he were to witness what I am about to do, his fury would have no bounds. Tis better that I conduct this and let him tend to the one that needs him," Ardeth stated. 

~*~

They placed the warrior on the nearest pallet while the healers prepared their poultices and gathered the necessary instruments to treat the numerous wounds. Despite their gentle care, the movement still produced a groan of agony and suddenly the warrior's eyes snapped open. 

He started to cough and weakly struggle against the hands that firmly held him down, panic etched on his face. Jericho quickly repressed the warrior's efforts but couldn't hide his astonishment at the gray eyes that swept up to meet his gaze.

"Do not move," Jericho soothed. Each time the warrior tried to sit up, more blood oozed from his chest and shoulder wounds.

"Ribs…hurt," he rasped and fell back on to the pallet, his face quite pale.

"I will tell the healers but you must hold on, ya ukh." Jericho looked around the room, and was surprised to see Nabil, Berin and two unknown warriors watching him from the side. 

"Do you have a name?" he asked, trying to keep the warrior coherent and distracted from his injuries.

"Reyhan… Abbasi…" the warrior groaned, wrapping an arm around his midsection as he struggled to continue speaking, "I seek…a warrior…a commander…"

"There are many warriors and commanders here, whom do you seek?" Jericho asked. He gasped at the thin trickle of blood that appeared in one corner of Reyhan's mouth and he picked up a clean cloth from a nearby table to wipe it away.

"I am who he seeks," Nabil said as he suddenly appeared by Jericho's side.

"Nabil al Fa'ud…" came a weak reply.

Jericho stared at Nabil's profile and then swung his gaze down to the warrior.

Sudden comprehension dawned on him as Jericho shook his head in amazement. 

Nabil watched the surprise flicker across Jericho's face but before the elder warrior could comment, he informed him of the obvious.

"It would appear that this warrior is of my blood," he stated softly. 

~*~

As Drevick stood at the foot of the pallet, the healers had to work around Nabil and Jericho as they began cutting off Reyhan's filthy clothes. When the fabric fell away and the multiple bruises on his torso were exposed, colored in various hues of black and purple, Nabil's jaw clenched in anger.

"They beat him," Drevick's anguished whisper broke the tense silence.

Berin drifted over towards the Tuareg and folded his arms across his massive chest, but he still watched as the healers meticulously cleaned, stitched, wrapped and extracted all of Reyhan's injuries. 

"Surprised to see the handiwork of your friends or is this from the Rwalla-Hunud?" he casually asked.

Nabil and Jericho helped position Reyhan's body as the healers applied poultices over the wounds and then wrapped them with fresh linen bandages.

Drevick bristled for a moment at the implication behind Berin's words, but it was Yousef who spoke up. "If my people had attacked him, he would be dead by now."

"This is a trick by the Hunud. He was their captive for three months. I find it miraculous that he had managed to escape but why dress him in those strange robes and gag him?" Drevick asked. 

Eventually the healers left Reyhan to rest, delivering their prognosis to both commanders along with the promise that they would tend to Reyhan for as long as was necessary. It would take several days for Reyhan's recuperation but the true test would come this night when the fever would grip his weakened body. If he lived to see another dawn, his chances for survival were much better. 

Despite his overwhelming fatigue, coupled with the stinging pain from his wounds, Reyhan weakly called out for Nabil and a moment later, the warrior knelt by his side.

"There is much...we need to…discuss," he said softly. 

Nabil almost smiled from the comment. "We can talk with one another later, when you have sufficiently recovered. For now, you need to rest – you are safe within the walls of the citadel. The healers will watch over you." 

"I would…rather have…just you, ya ukh…" Reyhan sighed and struggled to keep his eyes open. 

"There is…something that I…must tell you…great importance."

Nabil leaned closer, undecided as to whether to let Reyhan rest or to let him continue speaking when it was clearly getting harder and harder for him to do so.

"It can wait until you are better," Nabil said.

Reyhan shook his head. "The Hunud…released me as a trick," he said hoarsely, and gathered the last remnants of his strength. "Why I cannot fathom but they…they will come after me…to avenge their…own."

Unable to watch his friend suffer any further, Drevick stepped forward, consequences notwithstanding and demanded that the healers do something to help his friend. 

Reyhan's eyes widened at the sound of Drevick's voice and despite the circumstances, the two friends were once again reunited. Nabil watched at they clasped hands and quietly moved to one side, aware that Berin was staring at him but remained silent when Jericho joined them a moment later.

"The resemblance is uncanny," Jericho commented as they all watched the healer's settle Reyhan back against a mound of pillows designed to take the pressure from his ribs. 

The physical attributes of both warriors were similar. Perhaps the color of Reyhan's hair was a shade lighter, but his face closely resembled Nabil's. The features seemed to be more refined, almost aristocratic, undoubtedly inherited from his sire. But it was the tattoos that gracefully adorned his body that proudly proclaimed his skill as a warrior…as a Medjai. Jericho judged them both to be of the same height and approximate weight but the one physical distinction that linked them through blood was the startling gray color of Reyhan's eyes.

"I must ask that all of you leave for now so my patient can rest," one of the healers kindly asked them. He gently ushered Drevick away from Reyhan's bedside and propelled them all toward the door. 

"If you wish to visit him again, may I suggest a visit near dusk to check on him?"

"Shukran, healer," Nabil said. He gave a slight bow and exited with the rest of the warriors. They congregated out in the street, each of them silently contemplating what Reyhan had revealed to him prior to losing consciousness. 

And Nabil felt sure that none of them wanted to admit that Reyhan's fear may come to fruition – the Rwalla-Hunud would indeed avenge the death of one of their own.

Reyhan was still in danger.

~*~

Jameel and Madjy stood off to one side, silently watching as Ardeth walked through the ranks of the warriors both on- and off-duty for the day, asking each of them to present their rifles.

Jameel thought their presence was required to observe and mediate if need be, but considering the potentially volatile mood of Ardeth, he wondered if they would be needed to intervene. 

Ardeth performed the same ritual with each warrior; once the rifle had been presented he would sniff the barrel to determine if it had been recently fired. When Ardeth approached the last two warriors in line, Jameel thought it odd that they seemed nervous as they obeyed their chieftain's order. Ardeth examined the first warrior's rifle and tossed it back, gesturing for the second warrior to hand over his weapon.

The warrior hesitated for a fraction of a second and his actions were duly noted as Ardeth narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He raised the barrel and sniffed, his unforgiving gaze never leaving the warrior's pale face.

"Have you had a need to fire this weapon today?" Ardeth asked mildly and held the weapon chest-level.

"La, ya ra'is, I-I have not," the guard stammered.

Suddenly Ardeth swung the butt of the rifle out and it caught the guard in the mouth, rocking him back on his heels. The warrior awkwardly regained his balance and a thin trickle of blood came down from the corner of his mouth as he stared at Ardeth in astonishment.

"You lie," Ardeth stated softly. "I will ask you again- did you have a need to fire this weapon today? Was there an unseen enemy lurking in the dunes or hiding behind an acacia tree perhaps?"

"Aiwa…I…I had forgotten but it went off earlier today when I was cleaning it," the guard quickly amended and his cohort quickly nodded his head. 

The rifle swung out again and caught the guard in the midsection with a sharp jab that made the air rush from his lungs. He doubled over in pain as Ardeth looked down upon him like a dark avenging god. 

"And pray tell, did you see if you shot anything?" Ardeth growled.

"There was a rider…" the second guard gasped but was immediately silenced by the first. 

"We saw nothing, ya ra'is," he said to Ardeth. 

"Again you lie," Ardeth spat.

Madjy tried to intercede but Jameel wisely held him back with a hand on his shoulder and a firm shake of his head. It was rare indeed to see Ardeth disciplining a warrior and somewhat unsettling but it was necessary. They all lived by their warrior code, and would die by it – to dishonor it was to tempt a fate worse than death.

"I swear upon my oath that I do not believe I shot the rider," the second guard wheezed. 

Ardeth spun around and rammed the butt of the rifle into the guard's stomach. Twirling it end over end and swinging up, he clipped the chin, the blow knocking the warrior onto his back. Before he could recover, Ardeth stood over him, viciously jabbing the rifle into his groin.

"If there is one thing that I cannot abide, it is a liar," Ardeth hissed over the guard's howl of pain. He glared at both warriors. "Consider this as your dismissal. You are to gather your things and return to your tribes for further action. Now get out of my sight. You both disgust me."

"I protest your decision," the first guard boldly stated as he helped the second guard stand. "We did not disobey any orders and shot what we had thought was an enemy. Go and search for the body, you will see the markings of an outlaw…"

"What I saw was a warrior, one of our own brothers, bound and gagged, beaten and wounded. What happened was not an act of honor or a mistake, but one of cruelty. You both acted without thought or regard for your deeds. Had you alerted the captain to the rider approaching, his identity would have been revealed without bloodshed," Ardeth snapped. 

"Do you wish to challenge my decision with a tribunal?" 

"Aiwa, we do!" the second guard shouted and lunged at Ardeth. "We did nothing wrong!"

Jameel, Madjy and the captain of the watch immediately surrounded Ardeth as other warriors grabbed the two offenders. The guilty warriors struggled to reach Ardeth, shouting obscenities and petitions for a trial even as they were subdued and eventually dragged away.

Ardeth stood calmly in the center of the chaos, his body stiff with anger as he watched the offenders disappear around the corner of the walkway. Jameel and Madjy flanked him on each side, their actions a silent statement of solidarity and Ardeth turned and quietly thanked them all for their support.

Yet his mind strayed back to the warrior that lay inside the healer's building, fighting for his life…

~*~

The residents of Asyut never stood a chance and the tranquility of their afternoon was suddenly shattered by the ominous roll of thunder off in the distance. A great cloud of dust rose up in to the sky as hundreds of black horses thundered across the plains, and their riders urged them to run impossibly faster. Long, razor-sharp spears were held level to the passing ground, aimed as if to strike at the very heart of the citizens in the small town.

A cry of alarm went up as women screamed and frantically grabbed their children as they sought protection. Men rallied and valiantly tried to repel the attack but were cut down with vicious ease. The earth shook as the horses bore down on them, their sharp hooves trampling everything in their path…

…the destruction was impartial and complete – every man, woman and child. 

It was over in a matter of minutes, and nothing but the charred remains of Asyut was left as the buildings and homes went up in flames. Bodies littered the streets and the ground ran red with rivers of blood. 

In the center of the town, the black riders gathered and their horses twirled and pranced, blowing foam from their nostrils. An eerie chant rose up into the thick, acrid air and the Rwalla-Hunud celebrated their victory as one. 

Hundreds of spears banged heavily against the earth over and over again, as the riders grew frenzied, the bloodlust from the massacre lending them an almost demonic strength. Horses whinnied and screamed, rearing back on their haunches as the world was slowly consumed in the colors of red, black and yellow.

Tendrils of smoke rose into the sky, an ominous memorial to the town that once stood near the banks of the Nile – Asyut was no more. The wind blew in from the west and within its currents it carried the grim news to the inhabitants of the Sahara that the Rwalla-Hunud were coming…

~*~

_A/N – Uh oh, either people have been extremely busy in RL and haven't had a chance to relax and read some fanfic or Ardeth doesn't pull them in like he used too. Do I have to resort to offering some sweet bribes, ie a tin of chocolate biscuits like Nakhti?  LOL  _

_Or is it because I'm updating too fast and not giving everyone a chance to catch up.__ *heavy sigh*_

_Let me know you were here and hit the review button, my friends.  I've often said your comments and observations serve as inspiration for future chapters.  Shukran!_

_Shout-outs:_

**_Karri – _**_Thanks for the review, my friend and while coming over to the LOTR fandom sounds tempting, I still have plenty of Medjai stories to tell.  A trial run intrigues me and I may lurk over there to see what's up and what kind of trouble I could get Aragorn in to…lol  *ponders*  What authors should I read, I wonder?  [wink at you and Deana lol]_

_This was a calm chappie indeed but you are so right, it's the calm before the storm.  As Nabil struggles to come to terms with Reyhan, the Hunud continue their attacks and will eventually force Ardeth to make a decision he may regret.   _

**_Dawn – _**_It was great fun to show the lighter side of Ardeth in the previous part and after all the crap I put that man through, I thought a little humor would be appropriate.  Nuthin' like a happy, smiling Ardeth to make one's heart beat faster.  Lol  Thanks for reading and there will be more attacks, the Hunud won't give up that easy…but the climatic conclusion will may leave you speechless.  _

**_Nakhti_****_ – _**_as and ye shall receive an update.  LOL  Reyhan is indeed alive but how will he react when he learns he's the reason the Hunud are at the Medjai's doorstep?_

_Bless you for your research and since you appear to be a bubbling fountain of knowledge, I may have to tap in it from time to time, if you don't mind. I love using quotes and phrases sprinkled in a story to set the mood for the forthcoming chapter.  _

_I got your email, btw, and shall respond shortly but more importantly [drops voice to a whisper and looks around]…where can I get a tin of those chocolate biscuits?  _

_Additional sidenote – if I'm using Arabic that no one understands the meaning behind or forget to explain something, let me know.  Shukran! _


	5. Part IV

_Part IV_

Muhjah-Aji had been an inhabitant of the citadel for two months, and her purpose was to serve in whatever capacity the great Chieftain Bay saw fit. Originally from a settlement near the border of a Tuareg-Berber village in Upper Egypt, her physical appearance bore silent testimony to her mixed heritage. She was of medium height, her frame well-proportioned and strong, but hidden by the large robes she wore. She purposely kept her gaze averted, lest her dark mysterious eyes reveal the true nature of her soul. Her greatest attribute was her hair and it was always covered beneath a long veil, hanging in a long, thick braid down her back. Its glossy raven color attributed to the one indulgence she practiced each night before bed - she brushed her hair over one hundred times with a stiff horsehair brush.

Muhjah-Aji had a talent for cooking and worked in one of the many dining halls scattered throughout the city. She helped keep the pantry well-stocked and had been often seen by the various warriors who inhabited the city as she carried out her assigned chores whether it was carrying baskets of laundry to be washed or fresh vegetables for the night's dinner. Pleasant and hard working, she maintained a respectful friendship with all of the people she met, but always kept her distance. Muhjah-Aji was hired by the owner of the dining hall to work, and she didn't allow herself the privilege to fraternize with anyone, warrior or not. The gold coins she earned for her services were always sent home to her widowed mother and eleven siblings for food and clothing. Yet secretly, as she often became a reluctant witness to the events inside the city and of the warrior sect, she began to yearn for companionship. 

Over a period of time, she began to drift towards the healer's building and stayed off to one side like a shadow as she watched them care for those who were ill or injured. Once it was determined that she possessed a quick mind and seemed eager to learn, gradually the various healers relied on Muhjah-Aji to assist them in some minor tasks. And true to her character, she gladly accepted each chore and readily supplied whatever had been needed, often helping the assistants gather the necessary herbs for the medicinal baths and poultices.

It was late afternoon when Muhjah-Aji walked into the healer's building, curiosity more than anything prompting her visit. The elaborate gossip vine spoke of a warrior who had been rescued earlier in the day and his wounds were causing some concern among the healer sect. 

She stopped in the middle of the main room and looked in amazement at the frantic activity circling around one pallet. Three of the healers were animatedly discussing a course of treatment and gesturing to the injured warrior. Their conversation came to a temporary halt when one of them spotted Muhjah-Aji and waved for her to come over.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she hurried over to join them, typically keeping her eyes averted and secretly pleased that they were in need of her assistance. The conversation continued to flow around her and Muhjah-Aji took the opportunity to sneak several glances at the man everyone had been talking about…the warrior that claimed to be the half brother of a commander.

"Sit with him, Muhjah-Aji, ajab," one healer kindly instructed and gestured to a nearby chair. "I wish to brew for him some of my special herbal teas that will help fight any infection and fever."

"And I say a simple tea will not stall the inevitable," another healer shook her head. "We need to utilize the medical papyrus and find past cases that are similar to this one. The past can always teach us."

"Whatever we decide it must be soon," the third healer cautioned as they walked away. "Time grows short…"

Muhjah-Aji sat down on the edge of the seat and watched as the trio of well-meaning healers went off in various directions, all determined to be the one who could provide the cure for the injured warrior. 

"Who…are you?" asked a raspy, tired male voice.

Muhjah-Aji swallowed hard and turned back to find the most astonishing gray eyes staring at her with a mixture of pain and confusion. 

"I-I am a friend," she replied. She reached over and gently adjusted the pillows behind the warrior, wishing to ease the flashes of agony that danced across his handsome face.

The warrior shifted on the pallet and Muhjah-Aji guessed he must have been uncomfortable; she moved the pillows again and almost missed his soft sigh of relief.

"You should not move," she gently reprimanded him. "You appear to be growing feverish and need to rest."

A wan smile danced across Reyhan's face, unaware that it seemed at odds with the shadows that lurked in his eyes. "I was going to inquire as to…what type of friend…you are," he said tiredly, "now I know…you are a commanding one."

Muhjah-Aji's mouth bloomed into a tentative smile. "I am merely following what I'm sure would be the orders from the healers. I am certain I am to keep you comfortable until they return."

Reyhan leaned his head back and sighed, fighting against a groan that welled up in his throat. His body ached and throbbed with a breath-stealing intensity. To occupy his mind on something else rather than his injuries, his gaze swept over his mysterious visitor and his conclusions were surprising ones. 

"You are not Medjai," he murmured as their gazes met and held. One hand came up and touched his bandaged shoulder since it hurt almost as badly as his ribs.

Muhjah-Aji blinked in surprise and the smile faded from her face. "No, I'm not."

The sound of good-natured bickering caught Muhjah-Aji's attention for a moment and she almost missed the warrior's slight movement. She looked back and stared down in amazement to see that one of his hands had slid into hers. His grip was warm and strong. Her gaze lifted to meet his and danced away once more, afraid he would see far too much lurking within her eyes. 

"Talk to me," he quietly pleaded, sounding very much like a lost little boy. "Tell me anything so I can keep the pain at bay while waiting for the healers to return."

Nodding her head, Muhjah-Aji spoke of what she knew best and began to describe her life within the city.

~*~

As the sun was slowly setting in the western sky, Berin, Jericho, Drevick and Yousef had accompanied Nabil to the south tower to meet a messenger that had arrived just minutes bearing grim news. 

Nabil took the parchment from the rider's hands, and before he read it his gaze swept over the exhausted man's appearance. 

"Go and rest, ya sahib and tell the watch captain on duty that I have relieved you for the night," Nabil thoughtfully instructed the messenger.

"Shukran, Commander but I was told to wait until you have read the message before I am to take my leave of you," the man stated. 

"Very well," Nabil said and unrolled the papyrus. His eyes scanned over the contents and he blinked in amazement, reading it again.

"What is it, ya sahib?" Berin asked in reaction to the look on Nabil's face. 

Nabil waved off the other warrior for a moment and concentrated on the paragraph that described the obliteration of another city, a city that had been under the protection of the Medjai.

"You may want to see this," Jericho suddenly spoke up and pointed towards the horizon. "Look to the south."

Nabil lifted his gaze and felt his heart constrict within his chest – even from this distance they could see the thick dark smoke that lazily floated up into the sky, marring the golden perfection of the setting sun.

"The Rwalla have attacked again," Drevick grimly announced. "They will not stop until the Medjai have turned over Reyhan so he can be punished for his crime."

The Tuareg seized the opportunity and walked over to Nabil's side. 

"Now is the time to forge an alliance with my people," he urged. "The Hunud will not stop until they get both the war and Reyhan. We must act and quickly before all the desert towns are decimated."

"Send a message to Kedar and advise him of the events that have transpired over the past few hours," Nabil instructed Berin and he slowly rolled up the papyrus, reluctant to give any affirmation to Drevick just yet. 

"Tell him he is to ride hard to the citadel. Ardeth will need him in the days to come," Nabil said and gestured for the rest of the warriors to follow him. They were going to find Ardeth and report to him about the loss of Asyut. 

Berin nodded and went to the falconer's station to compose the message…

~*~

_To: Kedar Ishaq_

_Commander_

_Tribe of the First_

_Kedar__, ya sahib –_

_SamaH__ ana if I deliver such grim news without much preamble but I have no choice as time is of the essence._

_A warrior has arrived here that claims to be Nabil's half brother, Reyhan Abbasi, and he has unknowingly brought the threat of war close to the borders of the Medjai. _

_I do not know much about Reyhan and could easily dispute his blood claim, but the physical similarities are there for all to see – Reyhan has inherited his sire's eyes, just as Nabil._

_His appearance came unexpectedly and not under the best of circumstances; Reyhan has been badly injured and there is concern he will not live through the night. I will give more details upon your arrival but I urge you to exercise all caution during your expedition. Once here, you will be briefed._

_Ride hard and fast, your presence is sorely needed. May Allah grant you a safe journey, ya ukh._

_~ B_

_~*~_

"Help me hold him," the healer instructed Muhjah-Aji and slid her hand beneath Reyhan's neck. Muhjah-Aji kept her fears quiet and was alarmed at how warm the warrior had grown over the last few hours. She knew that his body was now fighting an infection and that the rise in temperature was the first sign of the internal battle.

Reyhan groaned, delirious from the pain that wracked his body and he tried to push away from those he mistakenly thought were his captors. "La," he murmured and his eyes fluttered open to reveal that they were glazed over and unfocused.

Muhjah-Aji soothed the warrior and then turned to the healer. "He has gotten worse," she stated the obvious.

"I can see that," the healer snapped. "Why didn't you come and get one of us sooner. And do pay close attention to what I'm doing. I don't want to spill any of this special tea that I've brewed."

Muhjah-Aji's body stiffened slightly from the reprimand and she concealed her anger as best she could. "All of you have been quite busy trying to determine the cure. I was reluctant to disturb your meeting."

She leaned closer and stroked Reyhan's face with one hand in an effort to soothe him as the healer brought the cup to his lips. 

Both women focused on getting him to drink the dark tepid liquid and once the cup was empty they shared their first tentative smile when Reyhan grimaced from the taste. 

"RaHa, bero," the healer crooned over and over again and they slowly eased him back against the pillows. Gradually the lines of pain and fatigue eased from his face and in a matter of a few minutes he settled down and fell asleep. 

"You have done well for a novice and I must ask for your forgiveness for my outburst earlier," the healer remarked with a faint smile. "We are all concerned about the welfare of the Commander's brother. Now go and get some rest…eat your dinner and if we need you, I shall send someone for you."

Muhjah-Aji lingered by Reyhan's side and watched the healer walk away. Coveting the time alone with the warrior, she bent over him and brushed back the dark strands of hair that clung to his damp face. As she stared down at his handsome profile, she mused there would be much to tell in the journal she was writing but was suddenly afflicted by a loss of words.

Relaying the events and daily life within the citadel she could compose with ease but when it came to the matters of heart, she was left uncharacteristically speechless.

~*~

Once again sequestered in a chamber situated at the end of the hallway, Nabil, Berin, Jericho and the Tuareg waited uneasily for Ardeth to arrive. There was much to discuss and each man kept his thoughts to himself. A heavy cloak of apprehension hung in the air and each man reacted to it, withdrawing from any social contact for the moment, lest they give voice to their own fears.

Nabil wandered over to the small table situated in front of the bay windows that overlooked the royal gardens, and stared out over the lush vegetation, lost in thought. The natural beauty and tranquility of the area used to promote a sense of well-being for Nabil but now as his gaze skimmed over the walls, grottos and water fountains, it was temporarily lost…replaced by images of Reyhan's face contorted by his suffering. 

Berin joined his friend and as always stood by his side, intuitively knowing the course that Nabil's thoughts were taking him. He reached over to the tea service that had been left along with various platters of fruits and cheeses, and poured two steaming glass mugs of hibiscus tea. Remembering Nabil's preference, he handed the mug to him, his eyes dark and turbulent as he tentatively sipped the fragrant brew.

"Strange to think of this now, but I must confess I suddenly remember when there was a time we did not favor one another's company," he murmured thoughtfully.

Nabil blinked in surprise from Berin's confession but wisely chose to let him continue, sensing that he needed this kind of purging of the soul. 

"When you first came to my tribe, you must have known that you were not welcome by some of the elder warriors due to your age and mixed heritage. Coupled with the fact that you had been promoted to commander instead of me, the logical choice, it was hard to accept you at first. Yet I remained loyal to my oath and to my people – I strived to find a balance between us and eventually, I came to know not only the warrior but the man as well. And when Khalee died…"

Berin's narrative stopped and a flash of pain flared up in his eyes. After so much time, those memories still had the power to hurt him.

Nabil and Berin stared at one another for a few moments, the silence between them laden with emotion. Ever faithful to his warrior brother, he automatically reminded Berin of the truth that was often overlooked when the pain in his heart was too much to bear.

"You were cleared of all charges, her death was not your fault," he said gently. 

Berin sipped his tea and faced the windows again, studiously avoiding Nabil's scrutiny as neatly as he avoided confirming the declaration.

"When she died, I wanted to die," he confessed, his voice low and emotionless. "You saved my life, my position within the tribe…you were the anchor that I clung to as I floundered in the darkness that threatened to consume me. You were the one responsible for me being restored to full duty and when we performed the blood brother rites, we swore on our lives that we would always protect the other…and those that mattered to us."

"I remember, but why…" Nabil asked softly.

"I remind you of this because as your blood brother, I am sworn to watch over Reyhan in your absence." Berin reached over and earnestly clasped Nabil's arm. "I tell you this because I fear that circumstances beyond our control will force us to part…and that one of us may not return."

_~*~_

_A/N – Ahhhh reviews and one from a new reader as well.__ I am most pleased so…chocolate covered warriors for everyone!!!  Ooops, I meant to say biscuits, not warriors. Yeah, biscuits. [coughs]  Thank you all so much for letting me know you were here…tis truly inspiring and your comments warm the cockles of me old heart. I've been battling a cold for the past several days and this was the perfect pick-me-up. _

_On to the shout-outs:_

**_Dawn _**_– The guards got what they deserved indeed but what would happen if Berin were to get a hold of them? Ladybug once said, "When Kedar is angry, you can hear his bellow for miles around.  When Berin is angry, it's the silence that gets you." [paraphrasing] Thanks Dawn!  _

**_Karri _**_– Thanks for the __Ruse__ recommendation but I believe I was following that fanfic…*hangs head in shame* If she's updated, I haven't caught up with it..yet.  Truly a wonderful crossover and I admire her style and technique. The intrigue and suspense does indeed thicken and things are going to get even worse before they get better.  You know me…heh heh And I thank you for the kind words, the check is in the mail.  LOL_

**_Nakhti_******_– I'm tickled pink that ye enjoyed the last chappie and again, my writing was inspired while listening to the LOTR soundtracks, especially the first one where the Wraiths come after poor Frodo.  *shudders*  As for my Ardeth version, I'm trying to give a new twist on a well written character and show more aspects of the man in the coming chappies.  Ones that I'm quite certain no one has explored as of yet…I do loves me a forceful Ardeth and when the time comes, he will be called upon to be more forceful ever before, making a heartbreaking decision that will leave him sleepless for many nights.  Update? Ask and ye shall receive.  _

**_Ladybug – _**_Thanks for reading and again for letting me play with your boys. I promise I won't be too rough with them and if they get a boo-boo, I'll be sure to kiss it.  Heh heh And laws yes, I know how you feel about Nabil…considering what you've sent me via email and no thud warnings?!? For shame.  Lol_

**_The kidd mdd_**_ -  Welcome, welcome and of course, shukran for the feedback.  I have so many stories to do, and so little time but I shall do my best to finish Heroes, this story and the sequel for SIT.  In the meantime, your feedback is greatly appreciated and as I've often said, emails are often inspirational. As soon as I can breath [fighting a nasty cold], I shall answer.  *smiles*  _


	6. Part V

_Part V_

_Meanwhile at the Tribe of the First…_

Kedar Ishaq stood near the falconer's stand and read the message he had just received from the citadel. He shook his head in disbelief and frowned, reading the message again for accuracy. 

"What news that comes from the citadel would make you glower so fiercely that you will scare away all the pretty nisa tonight at Gheadra's brothel?" Talib al Husayn asked and walked over to stand by Kedar's side. His sapphire-colored eyes sparkled with mirth, but it quickly evaporated from the shake of Kedar's head.

"I need both you and Zaki to hear this," Kedar said and read the message again. When he was finished he looked at the two warriors and was unable to say much else due to his own astonishment.

Finally Zaki Hisham broke the silence. "Nabil has a brother?"

"Half brother and from what Berin has said, I can only surmise that Nabil's sire did not leave Egypt as we had first believed after his birth," Kedar said. He fell into deep thought, and recalled the deep hatred that Nabil had harbored for the man who had brutally raped his ume. A product of that heinous act, it had taken Nabil several years to work through his rage and grief and accept himself for what he was – a nuss dam or half blood.

"I hate to bring up this fact now but…" Zaki hesitated and glanced over at Talib. Both warriors knew of the trials that Nabil had endured over the years, their own blood considered less than pure. They would stand with him no matter the issue, their loyalty and friendship strong and deep.

"Nabil may refuse to acknowledge Reyhan, thereby refusing the blood claim," he said.

Kedar nodded his head. "I too was thinking about that and am almost certain Nabil may be superstitious of Reyhan and his intentions. Nabil does not trust easily, a habit carried over from his childhood and one that has improved with time but I fear his caution may cost him his only living relative."

"Perhaps we need to research Reyhan's true intentions," Talib suggested. "What can I do to help?"

"Find out what tribe Reyhan hails from," Kedar replied, knowing Talib's penchant for seeking out the truth. "Ferret out the details of his life over the past few months and report to the citadel when your assignment is completed. I shall be there by day's end."

~*~

Talib threw the saddle onto his horse and cinched the straps underneath, then placing his few belongings in the saddlebag and replayed Kedar's command in his mind. He had already spoken to the Elders and had gleaned some information as well as a map that Talib could use on the journey. The first stop was a village located near Upper Egypt. 

"If you are leaving, then I am leaving as well," a voice stated from the doorway of the barn.

Talib turned around and blinked in surprise to see Solman standing there, and he offered the large warrior a friendly smile. "I am following the orders issued by Kedar, ya commander, but I do not recall that they included you as well."

Because he knew of Solman's inquisitive nature, Talib quickly informed the younger warrior about his assigned task as he finished saddling the horse.

"I will go with you. A warrior alone in the desert is not wise. Earlier this day I had heard other warriors speaking of the Rwalla-Hunud and their sudden appearance in the desert. A patrol of warriors from the tribe of the Eighth had been ambushed one day ago and there were no survivors," Solman said. He walked over to his horse's stall, quickly saddling the animal.

"La, that cannot be," Talib murmured in disbelief, saddened by the loss of his warrior brothers. "I thought the Rwalla were extinct, their race having vanished from the sands thousands of years ago."

"True evil never dies, it lays in wait for the chance to be reborn," Solman stated and walked his horse over to Talib's. "I will go with you, for you are ya saHib."

Talib smiled at the simple declaration of friendship and was secretly pleased for the companionship. Although he was considered to have a simple mind, Solman's observations were often refreshingly honest and accurate. 

"We must ride hard and fast," he cautioned as he swung up on to his horse. 

They cantered the animals out of the barn and through the streets of the tribe until they had reached the open plains. Soon, they were quickly riding away from the security of the Tribe of the First…unaware that their actions had not gone unnoticed.

~*~

Resting on a nearby ledge overlooking a rocky incline, fifty black riders watched with great interest as the two Medjai rode away from the settlement. The long war spears bobbed and weaved in anticipation of the hunt and their horses snorted and pawed the ground, their withers trembling in wait for the command to ride.

Suleyman-Tansu controlled the horse with an ease that was born from an ancient race of equine experts, the reins tightening slightly to easily bring the animal under control.

"We must ride and spill fresh Medjai blood while the moon is fat and full," urged a subordinate. 

Fifty spears thudded on the ground in agreement and an odd moan floated over them.

"The kill…to hunt and kill…" they sighed as one and their lifeless gazes focused on their leader, waiting for the decision.

"We wait and follow," Suleyman-Tansu decreed. "We learn what the Medjai are doing, and if their purpose interferes with our plans, then we kill them."

The war spear was raised high into the air and with the silent command the riders wheeled their horses around and raced down the incline. They spilled out on to the desert sands like a black and vile wave of evil. 

~*~ 

"For the love of Allah, will someone stop him from doing that?" Drevick shouted as he threw himself to one side, Berin's lethal blade narrowly missing his midsection. 

"I wish to propose a temporary truce between our nations and…" the Tuareg's eyes widened in shock and he lunged to the other side as Berin charged after him yet again. "…and he keeps trying to kill me!" 

"That is the idea," Berin growled as he chased the younger man around the chamber. Chairs were overturned, and the table knocked over on its side as the warrior relentlessly pursued the fleeing Tuareg with a well-known tenacity. 

"Do something!" Drevick yelled at Ardeth as the warrior nonchalantly stood off to one side with his commanders. He dodged and twisted his body, grimacing when he felt the sting of Berin's scimitar skip lightly across his ribs. He compensated for the thrust and in doing so grimly realized he was making the sub commander even angrier. Berin followed up his maneuver with a punch to the face and Drevick backpedaled while blood ran from his nose.

He lost his balance when he tripped over the unconscious body of Yousef and fell, landing hard on his backside. 

"I am doing something," Ardeth calmly replied. He leaned against a wall and folded his arms across his chest. "I am letting one of my sub commander's release his fury – to carry such sentiment into battle would prove to be ineffective and costly. I have no desire to lose Berin to his emotions."

"A wise decision, ya ra'is," Jericho commented and stood next to Ardeth, appearing to be intrigued by the skirmish unfolding in front of him. "See how Berin uses the technique of changing sword hands? Most impressive considering how small this chamber is."

Drevick rolled to one side and swept his leg out, tripping Berin. His triumphant shout was cut short when Berin scrambled to his feet, his speed and agility amazing for a man his size. When the warrior charged after him again, his eyes black with anger, the young Tuareg began to wonder if trying to get the Medjai to accept a truce had been such a good idea after all.

"You need me as much as I need you, Chieftain," he grunted as he rolled out of the way from Berin's onslaught. A boot caught him in the ribs and he fell into Jameel and Madjy who each seemed a bit too eager to push him back into battle.

"Have faith, Tuareg. Berin will tire…someday," Jameel said with a wicked grin. 

Most of the warriors laughed at Jameel's remark, though Nabil remained oddly silent as he watched the one-sided fight. His thoughts were centered on Reyhan and how soon he could visit his half-brother again. 

"I need nothing," Berin replied and spun around, his scimitar a silvery blur as he slashed at Drevick. 

Drevick ducked and darted away from the warrior, using a chair as a temporary shield. He uttered a dark curse when bits and pieces of wood and fabric showered over him moments later. 

"I have received word from my sources telling me that the Rwalla-Hunud are amassing on the borders in Middle Egypt, outside the great Western desert," he panted and stepped away from the wobbly chair, his patience at an end. He dropped to his knees and lowered his head, baring his neck.

"If you wish to kill me, so be it. I would rather die by your hand than to be caught and tortured to death at the hands of our most hated enemy."

Berin's scimitar came to a sudden stop, hovering mere inches away from ending Drevick's life. He glanced over at Ardeth and when his chieftain gave a barely perceptible nod, he stepped away from the young man and sheathed his weapon.

"Are your so-called sources reliable?" Ardeth asked. 

"Reliable enough, especially when they carry such grim news." Drevick replied as he looked up at the imposing figure of the warrior looming over him like a bringer of death. Better to have this one as an ally since he had no desire whatsoever to face Berin in a duel ever again. The stories of this warrior's prowess in battle were certainly not fabricated and Drevick sighed to himself, happy to be alive.

Slowly he rose to his feet and refused to dust off his clothes - he instead turned to Ardeth and waited for his decision.

"What say you, Chieftain Bay? Do the Medjai and the Tuareg accomplish something unprecedented and unite to defeat an enemy that would destroy all that we each hold dear?"

Ardeth felt the enormity of his decision weigh heavily upon his shoulders and his gaze traveled from each of his warriors to the next, knowing full well that they supported him no matter his decision. 

War was never the preferred solution but Ardeth realized that if left unchecked, the Hunud would consume and destroy the cities scattered along the Nile like a swarm of locusts. And thousands of innocent lives would be lost…

"Aiwa, I agree. It is time for us to call for a truce," he stated quietly. 

"Yaha," Berin muttered. "Does this mean I have to play nicely with the little Tuareg boys?" 

~*~

"Do you see this wound, Commander? This type of wound puzzles me. The jagged, torn edges of the flesh, and the depth and width of it. To me it would appear that your brother was not stabbed once but…"

"My captors…took great delight in tormenting me," Reyhan said as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He lifted his gaze, his eyes flaring up with anguish from the memories that he could not dispel.

"They gouged me repeatedly for my so-called transgressions and reveled in my pain."

The healer that had been explaining to Nabil the extent of Reyhan's injuries shook his head in disbelief. "Who in the name of Allah would do such a thing to another human being?"

"We need to report this to Ardeth," Nabil suggested gently but firmly. 

Reyhan shook his head and held on to one of the healer's arms more tightly than he had intended as the wound was cleaned, and a fresh poultice applied. 

A temporary silence hung in the air as the healer concluded his visit by adjusting the pillows behind Reyhan; both he and Nabil settled the young warrior against them and moments later they heard his soft groan. 

Reyhan closed his eyes for a moment, taxed from his exertions and fighting the effects of the fever that was building within his body.

"Closing your eyes will make your problems disappear for only but a moment," Nabil murmured. As the healer excused himself and left, Nabil adjusted the light cotton sheet across Reyhan's waist. He didn't get a response and to be honest, he didn't really expect one. Reyhan was turning out to be quite the taciturn warrior and wisely, Nabil decided to leave him to his thoughts.

"I will see if I can get a tray brought over from Salma's," he said. "I believe you would like Salma and she would take one look at you and declare that you are far too thin for her liking."

"I am not hungry," Reyhan wearily stated and opened his eyes, a quiet yearning in their depths. He wished for a few moments of solitude, for enough time to gather his thoughts and plan for the future. He knew the Hunud would come after him and he would not jeopardize the lives of others for his foolish actions. Stoically, he rode out the waves of pain shooting down from his shoulder, a direct result from the healer's well-intentioned prodding. 

"I have no wish to be a bother to anyone."

Nabil was about to reply but a slightly husky feminine voice spoke up from behind him.

"And I thought I was stubborn."

Nabil turned around and found a young woman standing behind him, clutching a tray she had brought and looking uncertain as to whether she should interrupt. Flashing a charming smile, Nabil introduced himself and helped Muhjah-Aji sit down in the chair next to the pallet. 

"Since you appear to be in capable hands, I shall take my leave of you both," he said with a slight bow to both Reyhan and Muhjah-Aji. "I wish to come and visit you again, ya ukh so we can talk further."

"I would like that," Reyhan murmured and wished Nabil a good night. He watched the elder warrior walk away for a moment, and silently swore he would do all that was in his power to protect him. He then turned his gaze to Muhjah-Aji and silently scrutinized her appearance, not surprised to discern that she had bathed. She smelled faintly of wildflowers and he found himself intrigued by the lovely scent. 

Muhjah-Aji smiled as Nabil walked away and then turned around to find herself the object of an intense study from a pair of gray eyes.

~*~

_A/N – Ahhh, I see I caught quite a few people's attention with the chocolate covered warriors offer.  Lol Note to self:  offer that more often.  Thank you so much for the reviews and of course, we now move on to the shout-outs._

**_Nakhti_****_ - _**_*blinks* So judging by your reactions the warrior candy was a good idea, eh?  Reyhan and Muhjah are interesting together but we shall have to see what the future holds for them.  As for what am I gonna do with Ardeth…*waggles eyesbrows*  What do you mean, here or in my overactive imagination?  Here, Ardeth will eventually have to make a heartbreaking decision that could end up costing him more than he realizes.  Stay tuned!  _

**_Dawn – _**_Muhjah__ is a mystery but are you so sure about Ardeth giving up one of his warriors?  Time or the next few chappies will tell. Heh heh_

**_Ladybug – _**_Da__ sweet beast is coming and you know he'll have a talk or two with Ardeth as well as Nabil…Reyhan will get better thanks to the loving care of Muhjah.  So don't you worry.  *wags finger*  Much…_

**_SerenaFehr_****_ – _**_Thanks for catching up with the chapters and of course, your feedback.  There certainly is an attraction between Reyhan and Muhjah but one has to wonder how much it can endure?_

**_Karri - _**_*raises eyebrow* Kill who off? Reyhan???  I may play rough with my toys but I would never kill any of them. LOL Thanks for the review.  _

****


	7. Part VI

_Part VI_

Nabil strode through the streets of the citadel until he came to the front gates. There he met up with Berin and they greeted Kedar and Zaki as they were dismounting.

The warriors clasped one another's arm in the traditional greeting, and Kedar surprised Nabil by pulling him into an awkward and impulsive brotherly hug. He pounded Nabil's back a few times, seemingly ignoring the grunts of pain and then turned to greet a wary looking Berin.

"Hug me and I will kill you," the massive warrior playfully growled at Kedar.

Kedar threw his head back and roared with laughter, one hand slapping Berin's shoulder.

"I have missed you as well, ya ukh," he said. 

Berin greeted Zaki and once the pleasantries were finished, they walked through the streets towards the citadel and Nabil brought the two warriors up to date on the events of the past few hours.

As they turned down the avenue that led to the front doors of the palace, Kedar was informed of Ardeth's decision and he shook his head at the absurdity of it. 

"A truce with the Tuareg will never last, they cannot be trusted," he fumed and shoved a hand through his unruly hair. 

"What in the world was Ardeth thinking?"

"He was thinking about the fate of those innocent people who live in the shadow of the Hunud and fear for their lives. Suddenly our role as protector of man has taken on new meaning and now, we must face an evil that is as almost corrupt as the priests." Nabil said.

"Or was he thinking about protecting this newfound brother that you suddenly have? Do you not think it strange that Abbasi appears at the citadel and it coincides with the Hunud attacks? Obviously Mallory did not flee from Egypt and return to England right away as everyone had originally thought."

Nabil's eyes flashed silver fire from his anger but he held it in check, knowing that Kedar would look at the problem pragmatically. Still the old hatred for his sire, long ago buried within his heart along with the hurt, flared up and Nabil was unable to stop his sarcastic comment.

"One has to wonder how many Medjai maidens did Mallory rape and impregnate before he left Egypt."

The warriors fell silent for a moment, knowing how sensitive the subject was regarding Nabil's father. Yet it was a mystery how Reyhan had managed to remain undiscovered over the years. 

Kedar reached up and placed a comforting hand on Nabil's shoulder. 

"SamaH ana, I spoke unwisely but war is an option that I had hoped Ardeth would have avoided at all costs. Has he presented this to the Elders yet for a vote?"

"La twakhidna, Commander Ishaq but I am to deliver this message to you."

Kedar thanked the messenger and once the man had left, he opened the note and quickly scanned the contents. 

"There is more news," Kedar said and quickly informed Nabil and Berin about Talib's mission. "I had no idea that Solman had gone with him but they had left the village earlier in the day and returned a short while ago. They suffered some minor injuries and their pride may be in tatters - the Hunud caught them unawares and attacked."

"The enemy grows bold," Zaki commented. 

"They want blood," Berin added on.

Kedar nodded his head and read the last part of the message again. "Talib reported that he saw the mark of the red hand on some of the Hunud's horses and from his research he has learned that this means they are initiating a blood feud against one of our warriors. I assume there is no need to confirm the identity of the warrior with you, Nabil?"

The gray eyed warrior shook his head and threaded his fingers through his hair in a sign of frustration. 

"Confirm or theorize - it makes no difference. Reyhan is now here and rests in the healer's building - whether he is aware of the danger that he has brought with him or not remains to be discovered."

~*~

"You have returned…and with food no less." Reyhan sighed and dropped his head back against the pillows. He closed his eyes as his hand came up and gingerly touched his bandaged shoulder, trying to massage the gnawing ache in it. 

He wanted to rest, surrender to sweet oblivion that nipped at the edges of his consciousness but the somewhat steady stream of visitors to his bedside prevented him from getting any true rest. 

Other than Nabil, they had seemed merely curious about him and Reyhan felt his patience ebb like the tides of the Nile. He felt hot and knew the fever was staking out a more tenacious grip within his body. Soon he would be unable to answer the often-asked questions about his relationship to Nabil and peevishly, he would be glad for the respite.

Muhjah-Aji didn't dare smile at Reyhan's abrupt tone of voice although mentally she decided he sounded like a tired and petulant child. 

"When injured, one must feed the body if the recovery is to be complete. You are far too thin…"

"My captors cared little for my well being," Reyhan snapped and opened his eyes. For a moment they blazed with anger and then quickly, it was extinguished when he saw Muhjah-Aji's tolerant smile. 

"SamaH ana," he whispered, chagrined at his behavior. "I did not…that is I only meant…"

"Words spoken in haste and pain can often be ignored. No harm done," Muhjah-Aji said and stood up, placing the tray on a nearby table. She adjusted the covers again, noting with dismay the flushed hue of his skin, but lingered appreciatively over the tattoos that graced his lean muscular body. 

"Sleep well, warrior and I shall return in the morning, if my services are still needed."

Reyhan's hand snaked out and grasped a few of the trailing strands of Muhjah-Aji's hair that had escaped the confines of her braid. He ignored her soft gasp of surprise and brought the soft strands to his nose and inhaled, savoring the light, delicate scent. A whimsical smile drifted across his face as he released the hair, letting it fall from his fingers and it rippled like fine silk.

"You are needed…" he whispered and closed his eyes, slowly falling asleep. "I will make…sure you are needed."

~*~

He stood on the balcony outside his chambers and gazed wistfully at the city sprawled out below, envious of its sleeping inhabitants. He rested his hands on the stone railing while the wind mischievously batted his white robes, and almost lovingly fluttered his damp hair around his broad shoulders. He was barefoot and shirtless, preferring to wear a pair of loose fitting pants for comfort.

The wind, when it grew too strong, revealed the occasional tantalizing flashes of bronzed skin adorned with the sacred markings of his people but Ardeth relished the feel of it caressing his body. Often it felt as if he were truly airborne and it gave him a sense of freedom rivaled only by riding his beloved Sabeeh at full gallop across the desert plains.

Matters of state had kept Ardeth from resting this night and his frustration had propelled him to escape the luxurious comforts of his large, empty bed and come outside into the night.

The world was on the brink of war and the responsibilities that Chieftain Ardeth Bay bore often weighed heavily on his shoulders. Never before had one of his decisions had the potential to affect so many innocent lives; never before had one warrior brought such danger past the gates of the citadel.

Reports strewn across Ardeth's desk inside his chamber told a grim tale of events that had occurred over the past few hours – the Rwalla-Hunud were strategically positioned outside the city. They patiently waited, but for what, Ardeth knew not.

To engage them would invite disaster, since little knowledge about the size of their army had been ascertained as of yet. 

To ignore them would leave the people of the surrounding settlements at the mercy of the Hunud and the Medjai would take the blame.

And so… no matter which direction his thoughts took him, Ardeth knew rest would elude him this night.

However, if he delved too deeply within his own thoughts and feelings, another nameless restlessness had pushed him outside and it was one that usually remained hidden in the furthest recesses of his heart. And was examined only when it became too much to bear.

The great Medjai chieftain, ruler of the Twelve Tribes, and written about in the chronicles of his people as his role as the Chosen One had paid a steep price for his position of power and for fulfilling his destiny. 

Ardeth yearned for a mate…a woman with whom he could share his life with and it was baffling that for some unknown reason Allah had yet to bless him with a wife.

~*~

He stood under the velvet canopy of a star studded sky and gazed out across the horizon with unseeing eyes, oblivious to the nocturnal beauty of the world spread out before him. A playful and mild wind blew in from the west and caressed his bare chest as if it were a forgotten lover. It teased the long strands of his damp hair and randomly splayed them across his broad shoulders in a gentle puff of air. 

Normally the sounds of the night would have provided a soothing cadence to his troubled mind but Nabil would gain no rest this night. He surrendered to the temporary insomnia and allowed his thoughts to run rampant as he relived the events of the day in his mind. 

He was no longer alone in the world since a half brother had been unexpectedly revealed to him; he should have felt great joy over the discovery. His secret and fondest wish for a family had been miraculously granted but Nabil couldn't bring himself to fully accept Reyhan just yet. 

If he chose to closely examine his hesitancy, he would reach the conclusion that he feared Reyhan's motives in searching for him could reveal a darker purpose. And ultimately he would have to wrestle with the ghosts of his past once again, namely the one named Mallory. 

His heart wanted to acknowledge Reyhan, and publicly honor the blood claim, but his mind cautioned him against such futile hopes and whispered about the betrayals of the past. 

To have wanted something for so long, and for it to turn out to be a ruse in the end would be more than Nabil's heart could bear. His enemies had often come under the guise of friendship and brotherhood only to try and destroy him once their deceit had been revealed. 

Was Reyhan looking for Nabil to unite them as a family? Or would he try to destroy a warrior who was not of the blood thereby gaining acceptance for his tainted lineage and further his own ambitions? 

In the end it was the crushing loneliness that drove Nabil outside and prohibited him from resting but Berin's promise for retribution echoed teasingly in his mind. Both warriors had been furious to learn about the inept and heartless treatment from the guards and while they had both agreed to Ardeth's handling of the situation, they still wanted blood.

_"Do you wish for me to visit the pigs in the stockade?"_

How easy would it be for him to conduct himself no better than they had but Nabil had firmly declined Berin's offer tempting, as it was…

_"I would make sure it would be one that they would never forget."_

For in accepting it, wouldn't Nabil be admitting that Reyhan mattered to him? And prove himself a hypocrite to his own reservations?

Old habits often die harder than others and as the night wore on, Nabil became an unwilling victim to the memories of his past. He was still standing on the balcony to greet the new dawn with a heavy heart and a troubled mind. 

~*~

_Three days later… _

Four horses cantered through the streets of the city, and their heads impatiently nodding up and down on arched necks, foam blowing from their flared nostrils. Their coats glistened with perspiration and they constantly chewed on their bits, sensing the mood of their riders and amplifying it. 

The four warriors presented a grim façade as they stopped at the healer's building and silently dismounted. War had come to the Medjai and for the past few days, the cities of the desert were under siege as the Rwalla-Hunud continued its harassment. 

Maragah had been the next town attacked and el-Amarna would have suffered the same fate as the other towns if it hadn't been for the Medjai's timely intervention. And yet the city remained unscathed, and the Hunud chose to maintain its annoying position of surveillance.

Thankfully the Elders of the Twelve Tribes had unanimously voted in favor of Ardeth's decision to accept the Tuareg's truce three days ago. Drevick's men patrolled the areas near Badari, Qau and Akhmim but had yet to engage the enemy, an action some claimed was a tactical maneuver on their part.

In the council meeting earlier this morning, several Elders proposed the idea that the Tuareg had lied to the Medjai about the truce and were purposely withholding their aid. 

Ardeth had every intention of sending Berin and Dharr with two squads of warriors to investigate the accusations leveled at the Tuareg. However, the message he received prior to his leaving had changed everything.

The Hunud had finally spoken and had arrogantly demanded the release of Reyhan into their custody, charging him with murder. If the Medjai didn't comply with their demands, then the Hunud would turn their attention to the citadel and attack. The last part of the message suggested that Ardeth remember what happened to Sohag and Asyut - attacking and destroying the citadel would be done with frightening ease. 

Ardeth chose not to respond and instead had summoned Kedar, Nabil, Berin and Kedar's second in command Haytham to accompany him to the healer's building. He wished to talk to Reyhan about the charges and hear for himself the tale that everyone spoke of about a friendship that had managed to transcend hatred.

~*~

Muhjah-Aji glanced around the dining hall and nodded to her coworker, satisfied that enough food had been prepared for the morning meal. She was anxious to get to the healer's and although she was reluctant to admit it – she wanted to see Reyhan. Images of his beautiful gray eyes haunted her dreams during the night and while normally a pragmatic person, she felt a rush of giddy hope that perhaps the warrior had dreamt of her as well.

The past few days had been tiring for the young woman but she would never admit it. Reyhan had succumbed to a fever four nights ago and it had risen so high that she had feared they would still lose him in the end. For three days, she helped the healers battle it as well as treat his other wounds, often foregoing her own personal comforts and needs just to be with Reyhan.

When it finally broke in the early morning hours, Muhjah-Aji had been dozing by Reyhan's side and she was the first person he saw when he had regained consciousness. Even now, to remember it gave her a small thrill and she would treasure the memory for always, especially in the days to come.

She had been resting her head on the pallet near his shoulder, and had awoken to the feel of his hand gently stroking her hair. Her head popped up and she blinked in surprise at seeing him awake. And then she lost her heart when a slow, endearing smile danced across his face when they looked at one another in wonder.

She pulled herself from her thoughts with a mental shake and reached for a linen towel, drying her hands. 

"I will return in the afternoon," Muhjah-Aji told the other woman. And before any comments could be made or knowing looks exchanged with some of the other workers, she tossed the towel on the table and picked up a tray. She hurried out of the hall and balanced it precariously on one hip, taking great care not to spill the assorted containers of food and liquid. 

She walked through the streets, marveling that despite the very real and constant danger that loomed outside, life for the citizens of the citadel had continued on its normal and mundane routine. 

The cloudless sky was colored brilliantly blue, and a warm western breeze carried the varied scents of cinnamon and citrus. Hundreds of vendors in the open market were enthusiastically selling their wares and tried to cajole Muhjah-Aji to come look at the wondrous items on display.

She firmly but politely declined and quickened her pace, anxious to see Reyhan once again. 

~*~

_A/N –_

**_Dawn – _**_Try not to worry about Talib and Solman too much…see?  Didn't I play nicely with my warriors and bring them back safe and sound for now?  Heh heh  Thanks for reviewing.  _

**_Nakhti_****_ – _**_"wicked sado-medjai-chistic woman"??? LOL  I'll take that as a compliment since I've learned from the best, and I'm glad you enjoyed Berin giving poor Drevick hell.  Berin loves to keep the younger warriors on their toes, just ask Jameel and Makin about the time they…oppps. *blushes* Never mind. I'm glad you like the budding romance between Reyhan and Muhjah but one has to wonder if its tender foundation will be able to stand the test it will undergo in a few chapters.  Oh and your chocolate covered warrior is being shipped by International UPS…no Fed EX for that bad boy.  ;-)_

**_SerenaFehr_****_ – _**_The Hunud are indeed blood thirsty and their true nature will be revealed in due time. One has to indeed wonder how Reyhan survived…the soothing balm will be Muhjah…and Berin is on his way.  ;-)_

**_The kid mdd _**_– Forgive me for not replying to your email as of yet, I hang my head in shame.  However, at least let me assure you that Talib and Solman are out of danger…for now.  Talib is quite the handsome warrior, with his sparkling sapphire colored eyes but if you like my gentle, but slow thinking Solman, that's cool as well. I'm just glad you caught up reading the story and left some feedback. It's greatly appreciated.  _


	8. Part VII

_Part VII_

"Are you certain of this?" Jericho asked the messenger. 

"Aiwa, ya sidi. The captain of the squad has been missing for the past two days and Commander ibn Yunis fears that the Hunud has captured him," the man replied.

"Commander ibn Yunis is responsible for maintaining the patrols around the City of the Dead, is he not?" Dharr asked. 

Jericho thanked the messenger and motioned for Dharr to follow him as he walked towards the horses. "Aiwa and I while I can certainly understand his devotion to his men, I pray that his judgment is not hindered by this turn of events. We need the city protected, now more than ever."

~*~ 

"I am most pleased," the healer commented softly as he skimmed his hands over Reyhan's torso. He assessed the bruises that had begun to fade, and gently probed his ribs, happy that they seemed to be mending. Satisfaction about the progress of his patient dissipated moments later when he reached up and gingerly pulled back the shoulder bandages; the wound was slow in healing.

Reyhan turned his head to one side to allow the healer better access, but closed his eyes to hide his pain and exhaustion. He remained stoically silent, and grimaced slightly when the healer prodded the wound too deeply. Although the influx of special teas and herbal brews over the past few days had greatly helped promote a speedy physical healing, the emotional part of his recuperation had fallen far behind.

His dreams were filled with horrific images of his imprisonment by the Hunud and rest did not come easily for him at night.

"This troubles me," the healer murmured and started to reach for a long, pointed instrument that rested on the nearby table. "I need to examine this further."

"I could always come back if I am intruding," Muhjah-Aji spoke up as she stood at the foot of the pallet. She gripped the tray nervously, but the healer smiled warmly at her and stood up. 

"A good meal often does wonders for the constitution." He gestured for her to set the tray down. "I shall return later to check the wound again, but for now I believe airing it out will do some good."

Muhjah-Aji nodded to the healer as he passed by and then turned back to Reyhan, her heartbeat fluttering when she saw the happiness in his eyes. 

"You again." Reyhan shifted on the pallet and pushed against the pillows so he could sit up, despite the constant throbbing in his shoulder. Never had he imagined the movement would send arrows of pain racing down his arm and he couldn't hide his groan of agony.

"And again, I am here to help, stubborn warrior," she chided gently as she rushed to his side. "Must you always do everything that the healer does not wish? Surely moving around like that will only aggravate the wound, not help it."

"True and wise words coming from someone so young," a rich, deep masculine voice spoke up and Muhjah-Aji whirled around, coming face to face with the infamous chieftain. She blushed and lowered her eyes, giving him a deep bow of respect. 

Ardeth returned the bow, and a silent command for privacy was understood between the warriors that flanked him on both sides. Haytham stepped forward to greet Muhjah-Aji with a charming smile and gallantly took her hand, leading her away from Reyhan. She smiled at the warrior but it quickly faded when Berin followed them, and she glanced back at Reyhan uncertainly.

"May I?" Ardeth asked and gestured to the chair at the side of the pallet. The indifferent expression on his face revealed nothing as he carefully studied the young man before him, and his conclusion wasn't a surprising one. Jericho had been right - the similarities between Nabil and Reyhan were amazing. 

Ardeth thoughtfully rubbed his goatee, and waited as Nabil and Kedar positioned themselves at the foot of the pallet, thereby allowing Reyhan a moment to situate himself. 

Reyhan's eyes lingered on Muhjah-Aji as she walked away with Berin and Haytham and he was surprised to feel a stab of jealousy in his heart when she laughed at one of the warrior's remarks. Disturbed by this emotion, he turned his attention to the imposing warrior who sat nonchalantly next to him. Dark and intense eyes most likely scrutinized his appearance and despite the discomfort from his shoulder, Reyhan felt a small tremor of excitement race through him. The legendary leader of the Twelve Tribes of the Medjai was by his side and he could barely form the proper greeting.

"Ya ra'is," he said and respectfully bowed his head.

Ardeth made the unnecessary introduction and then he rested a forearm on one leg, leaning forward. "I assume you have recovered sufficiently enough for my visit? I understand you were quite ill."

Without waiting for a reply, Ardeth brusquely continued. "I know of your identity, and of the claim that you are Nabil's half brother, a declaration which he has chosen to neither deny nor accept at the moment considering we are at war. What I need to know is how you were captured by the Hunud three months ago and why they released you. You arrived here under dire and mysterious circumstances several days ago."

Reyhan met Ardeth's intense gaze with his own. "My intentions were not to incite a war with the Hunud but to escape from their prison. Each time I tried to flee, they captured me and punished me for my disobedience. Why they released me dressed as an outlaw I cannot say but surely you know of the story regarding my friendships with a Tuareg and Hunud. Repeating it would do nothing except reiterate facts that are already well known."

"Mind your manners, bero," Kedar growled. He folded his arms across his broad chest and glared at the younger warrior. "And you would do well to remember to whom you are speaking."

Ardeth waved off Kedar's reprimand and turned back to Reyhan. "You have brought trouble to the citadel."

"I never meant for that to happen, and if given the chance, I will gladly leave."

"The choice for leaving has been revoked." Ardeth tilted his head and studied the warrior before him, weighing and evaluating his words and reactions. "The Rwalla-Hunud is camped outside the perimeters of the city even as we speak and have been there since you arrived. This morning they finally delivered a message and demanded that I release you into their custody to face murder charges."

Reyhan's gaze dropped for a moment and he grimaced at the jolt of pain that shot through his shoulder. "They accuse me of murdering my friend, Tabari-Yervant." 

"Did you murder this man?" Ardeth tersely demanded. 

"La," Reyhan replied earnestly and lifted his gaze to meet Ardeth's shrewd one. "I speak the truth when I say I did not kill Tabari but I realize that I have not given you any cause to trust me. It is my belief that because of our friendship, the Hunud has initiated a blood feud and will not release it until I am delivered into their hands."

"The Hunud have demonstrated their power by attacking and destroying several towns over the past few days, and are using you as the means for further bloodshed," Nabil stated quietly. His weary gaze softened for a moment at the look of remorse on Reyhan's face and he felt his heart stir with compassion for the younger warrior. 

"If I do not deliver you in to their hands by sunset today, they will then attack the city," Ardeth said and carefully watched Reyhan's reaction. 

"Then I must leave the city as soon as possible," Reyhan said softly and tried to climb off the pallet, despite the overwhelming weakness in his body. "There is a sanctuary that I can travel to outside Lower Nubia." He paused to regain the breath the pain in his ribs and shoulder had stolen. "… and when I am strong enough, I will clear my name." He glanced at Kedar and then Ardeth in a silent plea for understanding. "In the beginning I had hoped to find Nabil since he is all the family that I have left, but I never wanted to be the cause of a war." 

Ardeth gave an uncharacteristic snort of skepticism and easily pushed Reyhan down. "Surely you realize that I cannot allow you to leave the citadel. You are under my protection here and my command. I will not allow you to be taken by the Hunud and killed for a crime you claim you did not commit."

Reyhan slumped against the pillows but punched the pallet in his frustration. "I cannot stay here and knowingly endanger the lives of the innocent people of the city," he said gravely. "You know as well as I that the Hunud will not be satisfied until I am dead. I cannot bear the thought of being responsible for so many deaths."

Ardeth stood up, a clear indication that the visit was over. "Any choice in the matter has been removed-I am sure the Hunud are now aware of our alliance with the Tuareg. Your friend Drevick was quite persistent and competent in pleading for our aid, his primary concern being your life. I command that you are to stay here until your wounds are healed and once we defeat the Hunud, we will then discuss your future. Do I make myself clear?"

Reyhan bowed his head, hiding the look of determination and objection in his eyes. "As you wish, ya ra'is," he murmured tiredly.

Ardeth shook his head and flashed a faint smile at Nabil. "He is truly of your blood, ya saHib since he appears to be as stubborn as you." He leaned down and placed a comforting hand on Reyhan's good shoulder. "Trust in Allah and in my judgment on this matter, ya Zrir bero. Allow your body to properly heal and in time, perhaps an unlikely solution to all of this will present itself. I pray that it will not be your death."

Signaling that the meeting with Reyhan was over, Ardeth motioned for the warriors to leave but glanced back at Nabil, not surprised to see him lingering by the pallet. 

"He pushes himself to the point of exhaustion," Berin murmured as they walked towards the door, staring at his saHib over his shoulder. 

"He cares for Reyhan but is reluctant to admit to anything," Ardeth commented softly as Berin passed by and then he looked looked at Kedar. "I fear that Nabil's caution will ultimately cost him more than he realizes."

Kedar stepped aside and allowed Ardeth to leave the building first, finally looking back at the warrior in question. Concern for the warrior overrode any misgivings about approaching the topic of Reyhan with him and Kedar decided he would have a talk with Nabil as soon as possible. 

~*~

Dharr raced through the city streets with Jameel and Madjy, his heart pounding in fear even as he struggled with his disbelief. In his hands he clutched a message that had been delivered a few hours ago bearing the grim news that the bodies of some warriors had been found near a ravine a few miles north of the city. 

Unrecognizable due to the heat and bloating, it was believed that the warriors were the missing Captain Emir Cohan and his patrol; Commander ibn Yunis was unable to retrieve them due to an untimely expedition that was traveling too close to Hamunaptra. 

Jericho had personally trained the young warrior, taking great care to impart to him the honor, integrity, and code of conduct that had been ingrained in the Medjai for thousands of years. And when Emir had been inducted into the warrior sect, Jericho had served as the petitioner to the Elders, just as he had done with Dharr and countless other warriors. True to his reputation, Jericho had personally taken it upon himself to mold Emir and help him utilize his natural leadership skills, allowing him to ascend through the ranks with ease.

Emir's death was a cruel blow and Dharr feared that Jericho's rational behavior would be distorted with a need for revenge – a need that could end up getting the commander killed.

"He has to be with Bahir," Dharr called back to Jameel and Madjy. "The stables are just around the corner and it would make sense that he would seek comfort from his beloved mount."

"Jericho should have been a horse breeder," Jameel replied and shook his head. "While the warrior sect would suffer from the loss of him as a commander, Jericho would not be facing the dangers of his current position and his heart would not be as scarred." 

Silently Dharr agreed as the warriors ran through the barn doors and searched down the aisle until they came to Bahir's stall. Just as he had feared, Jericho was saddling Bahir, his actions short and precise, and his body stiff with anger. 

Dharr motioned for Jameel and Madjy to stand back and walked over to his friend, giving a faint cough in the form of announcing his presence.

"Ya ukh?" he softly called when Jericho failed to acknowledge him. "Talk to me, ajab. I need to know what you are thinking."

Jericho pulled the cinches tight and ignored Bahir's startled snort and sidestep; he loosened them moments later and apologetically patted the horse's neck. "You have known me long enough to recognize the patterns of my thoughts. Only you out of all the warriors that I have known would need not ask questions." 

"Leaving will not take away the pain," Dharr stated firmly. He reached over and grabbed one of Jericho's hands, making the elder warrior finally turn around and face him. His heart ached, seeing the day old growth of whiskers on Jericho's lean face and the shadows that lurked in his sable colored eyes. 

"I am leaving to go and search for Emir; my heart will not allow me to rest," Jericho explained softly. "You would deny me this chance to ease the pain that dwells within me?"

"I would deny you nothing and would move the heavens if asked but I must question this course of action, not as your subordinate, but as your friend – do you think it wise to leave the citadel at this time? The Hunud are lurking around the perimeters like vultures waiting for a chance to kill. Why are you risking your life?"

A wan smile danced across Jericho's face. "I am in need of a ride." 

"You avoid the question."

Jericho finished adjusting the saddle and lovingly brushed Bahir's mane. "Ajab understand," he pleaded softly and looked at the young warrior who had become like a son to him. "I have never asked for anything for myself and have always honored my warrior oath. I have never allowed any distractions, and have served Ardeth long and well. The senseless death of Emir does not sit well with me and his soul cries out to me for help – I need closure as does he. I have to find his body and bring it home for the proper burial rites."

"Then I am going with you," Dharr stated emphatically.

"As will I," Jameel spoke up and walked over to the warriors. 

Madjy followed moments later and gave them all a rakish grin. "I will follow all of you until the edge of night, and honor my oath with blade, blood and bone. I can do no less and besides, this sounds like an amazing adventure just waiting to unfold."

"You think this is a game?" Jericho growled at Madjy. His show of temper made Bahir uneasy and the stallion snorted, shifting in the stall. He glared at all three warriors. "I will risk only my life to find Emir…"

"A warrior does for one as he would have done for him," Dharr gently interrupted and held out his hand, palm down. 

"I shall protect and cherish my warrior brothers," Jameel added on and placed his palm on the back of Dharr's hand.

"I see neither wealth nor glory for my actions, only to fulfill these sacred vows." Madjy placed his hand on top of Jameel's and nodded at Jericho.

"We are going with you, whether you like it or not," Dharr firmly stated.

Jericho felt his heart constrict with so many emotions and he swallowed against them lest they overwhelm him. With eyes suspiciously bright, he finally placed his hand over the others and cleared his throat.

"We must ride hard and fast, taking very little time for rest unless our mounts demand it. We must remove anything from our attire that would attract unwanted attention to our heritage. Above all, we must return from this…escapade alive and hopefully with Emir or the news that the bodies are not he and his men." 

"We can return just in time for Ardeth to draw up the charges for insubordination," Dharr dryly remarked. 

"Then we shall pray to Allah that our return is a triumphant one to offset those charges," Jericho countered. 

~*~ 

Muhjah-Aji dropped the spoon into the half empty bowl of broth and tried not to frown as she battled her chaotic feelings. Reyhan's recovery seemed to have lost its momentum and she was concerned about his growing listlessness. She struggled to ignore the fragile buds of affection for the warrior that had blossomed in her heart, and when they flowered into feelings of love she reacted instinctively. She hid her heart behind a wall for protection but the hastily constructed foundation lacked the strength to resist the swirling emotions she saw in Reyhan's expressive eyes. 

"The more you eat, the quicker you regain your strength and that would mean you would be able to leave here sooner, rather than spend a few more days on this pallet," she said.

Reyhan leaned his head back against the pillows and studied Muhjah-Aji with a direct and unwavering gaze. "Why do you care?" he asked bluntly.

Muhjah-Aji blinked at the question. "Because Jarille has placed me in charge of your recovery and I have no wish to disappoint him if you were to have a relapse."

She held up a cup of water to Reyhan's mouth and concentrated on coaxing him to drink some of the life giving liquid, her traitorous gaze lingering on his lips. It didn't help matters that her hand placed on the back of his neck could feel the silky softness of his hair or the enticing warmth of his skin. She failed miserably at trying not to notice how his lashes curled up as they rested against his cheeks or the intense emotions that often flared up in his eyes. 

"Ya ume has passed, I do not need another," Reyhan snapped and abruptly pushed the cup away, too weary to care about the water that spilt on his chest. He yearned to cave in to the desire to close his eyes and rest. Sweet oblivion, how he longed to embrace it and willingly fall into the void that it offered.

"I have never professed to be your mother," Muhjah-Aji retorted and tossed the cup back on to the tray. "I did not volunteer to become a nurse to an injured warrior whose manners rival those of a camel and I am tempted to leave."

Suddenly Reyhan's hand shot out and grabbed Muhjah-Aji's wrist with startling speed. "Ajab, stay and forgive my rudeness," he pleaded softly. "I am thoughtless in my words and actions. Do not ever doubt my gratitude for your assistance in my recovery."

"Release me," Muhjah-Aji demanded, reluctant to admit that Reyhan's touch had sent a thrill racing down her spine. His hand was large and warm, and textured with small calluses that were most likely earned from the many hours of wielding a scimitar. It had felt oddly pleasurable on her skin.

Reyhan dismissed Muhjah-Aji's order and he knew he had surprised her when he turned her hand over, exposing the wrist so he could brush the pad of his thumb across it. 

"Ya ume was Furat-Ghadir. Her name means sweet water stream," he offered quietly, and his melancholy gaze swept up to meet Muhjah-Aji's dark one. "She passed a few months ago and my heart still aches over the loss."

"What of your father?" Muhjah-Aji felt her anger dissipate upon hearing the sorrow in Reyhan's voice and against her better judgment, she was intrigued. When she saw the hurt in Reyhan's eyes, she immediately regretted her question and quickly sought to make amends. "Forgive me for asking such personal questions."

Reyhan acknowledged her apology with a faint smile. "My father was an Englishman who was killed in a raid when I was four summers old. He is but a memory and has never been a deciding factor in my life."

"Do you have any siblings?" Muhjah-Aji asked.

Reyhan immediately thought of Nabil as he replied and slowly, he began to share pieces of his life as Muhjah-Aji listened attentively. He never realized that he was binding them closer together in a union that would be sorely tested in the coming days.

~*~

_A/N – thanks for reading, as always and special thanks to SerenaFehr for her help with this…it is greatly appreciated. And now for the shout-outs:_

_Karri – thanks for reading and the tension will continue to build, trust me on that my friend. Hope you like the ride so far.  ;-)_

_Dawn – I'm glad Nabil's chaotic feelings came across so well.  As the story progresses, he will ultimately have to reveal just how much he cares for Reyhan…or doesn't care.  _

_Ladybug – again a thousand 'shukran's' for letting me play with your boys.  Nothing like a sweet beast, a golden eyed warrior, an inquisitive blue eyed warrior and a dashing second in command to get the blood running and the ol heart beating.  As for Reyhan and Muhjah, you've aptly described the "fiery trials" that are ahead of them quite well.  _

_Nakhti__ – So you wanna see Ardeth angry again? Ardeth large and in charge?  Well he was a tad that in this chapter, hope you liked it.  I do loves me a forceful Ardeth.  I'm glad you're bonding with Reyhan, he is a likeable fellow but if you need a refresher on the others, go to my website and check out the warrior pages. Bug and I go way back so the easy, camaraderie you may find in reading my stories is because Kedar et al and Nabil et al have known each other for a while.   And Ardeth give up Reyhan…well now, [eg] why would you say that?  Heh heh  Thanks for reading and if anyone is interested, please go read her story, "Harem Nights." Tis truly a great story to read giving us a different Ardeth and lovely fluff.  ;-)_

_TheDreamyOne__ – thanks so much for reading, and thanks for letting me know you found this little ol story on FF.  ;-)  _

_The kid mdd – A timeline?__ Uh oh…*scratches head* Well, let me do my best to answer that.  Technically, this could take place prior to "Somewhere In Time."  But, and not to confuse you, this has no relation to the Hero's storyline, this is just the beginning of the stories that my warriors have been asking me to tell. Don't worry about Heroes never being completed, I've written myself in to a whole and have asked my beta for some help. I need to wrap that puppy up so I can get on to the sequel "The Other Side."  Hope that clarified and as always, I'm so glad you read and reviewed.  _

_Desperate – please oh please don't hate me but trust me when I say I will give you "The Other Side."  Scenes and idea's are coming to me and when I have the time, I'm jotting them down.  But distractions are bad, aren't they?  Heh heh  Thanks for being so patient.  _

_SerenaFehr__ – Without your help, those scenes with Ardeth and Nabil wouldn't have turned out the way they did and you have my complete gratitude for that…and if Berin is no longer chocolate covered, then why is he smiling? *blinks* Ohhhhhh…*blushes* Say no more.  ;-)~ _


	9. Part VIII

_Part VIII_

"Kedar, if you continue to question my actions regarding Abbasi and the Hunud, I swear by all that is holy I will throw you in to the Nile and let the poor crocodiles try and chew on your ornery hide."

Ardeth marched through the gleaming tiled halls of the citadel, and left a trail of clothes in his wake as he changed from his warrior robes into those more befitting a king. He was late for a meeting with the Elders and the commanders from the tribes of the Fifth, Seventh and Ninth. The Elders were going to propose a means to end the war and he was most anxious to hear it. 

"I am not questioning." Kedar grinned despite Ardeth's threat. "I am merely wondering how you can trust the word of one warrior who claims he did not kill this friend who just happened to be a Hunud. We know little of Abbasi and precious little of his time in…" 

"You think he inflicted those wounds upon himself?" Nabil had joined the group of warriors a few minutes ago and stopped Kedar by placing his arm across the other warrior's chest. "Do you think his story is fabricated and that he is in league with the enemy?"

Kedar shook his head at Nabil's soft question, hating the look of disbelief on his friend's face. 

"All I ask is that we approach this matter and examine all the possibilities," he calmly stated to Nabil. "How well do we know Reyhan?"

"He is a warrior, bound by his oath and would never lie to fuel his own ambitions," Berin spoke up, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. When he saw that everyone was staring at him in surprise about his knowledge, he shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I have managed to talk with Reyhan briefly, as well as with some of the warriors from his tribe through messages sent by falcon. He was ignorant of his heritage and when his ume became sick, she told him the truth prior to her passing. He left his village shortly after her burial with the purpose that he spoke of when he first arrived – he wanted to be reunited with his half brother. I see nothing sinister in his actions although some may question his choice in friends."

Ardeth smiled faintly at Berin's reference to Drevick as his gaze passed from warrior to warrior. "If any of you were to ask if I believe Abbasi, then the answer would be aiwa, I do. I saw the light of truth in his eyes when he spoke and know that it dwells in his heart; this war was not caused by his actions."

"While my words seem harsh," Kedar said to Nabil and then turned to Ardeth, "as commander of the First and as Ardeth's saHib, I must question everything that concerns the Medjai and the battle we are currently embroiled in. The Elders must be seeking a speedy resolution to this…"

"Pardon the intrusion, ya ra'is, but this message just arrived for you." A warrior bowed and handed Ardeth a small parchment. 

"Shukran," Ardeth absently replied as he unrolled the paper and read the message. Moments later his jaw clenched in anger and he shook his head in disbelief. Knowing that the others were patiently waiting for his explanation, Ardeth crumbled the paper with his fist as his turbulent gaze danced from one warrior to the next.

"While the threat of the Hunud hangs over us like the sword of Damocles, Jericho has decided to leave the sanctuary of the city and has taken a patrol out into the desert towards the north. He searches for his saHib, Captain Cohan's patrol, and apparently refuses to believe that the warrior has perished."

"Does he realize the danger he has placed himself in?" Kedar asked in amazement. 

"Jericho has done what any of us would do – what you would do for Zaki or Haytham, and what Berin would do for me," Nabil stated. "The Hunud are a threat to all that we hold dear and he has reacted as well as can be expected."

"He will be extremely fortunate if a Hunud spear does not impale him to Bahir," Ardeth growled and resisted the urge to unleash his anger over the warrior's foolish and impetuous actions. "I am reluctant to think what the Hunud would do if a Medjai commander were to fall in to their hands."

~*~

To Jarille's obvious displeasure, Reyhan slowly pushed off the pallet and stood up, ignoring Muhjah-Aji's disapproval as well. He cradled his left arm close to his body and ignored the pain that raced like liquid fire down from his shoulder to his wrist. The entire appendage felt numb. 

He gathered the blanket across his shoulders with his right hand and gazed ruefully down at the pants that were bunched around his lean waist. They were two sizes too big and threatening to slide down past his hips, despite the rope that Muhjah-Aji had improvised for a belt. It mattered not to Reyhan about his appearance, what mattered was how quickly he could regain his mobility.

Time was running out and if Reyhan knew the Hunud the way he believed he did, they would be coming for him soon. They held no reservations in attacking the city and meeting the infamous Medjai chieftain in battle – they looked forward to the confrontation and the prospect of more bloodshed.

"Are all warriors so stubborn?" Muhjah-Aji pondered as she hovered cautiously by Reyhan's side. More than once her gaze had wandered over his lean, graceful body and she would immediately lower her gaze, embarrassed by her wanton thoughts.

"Aiwa," Reyhan replied with boyish smile, however it quickly faded as the ramifications of his continued presence at the citadel plagued him and the possible penalty was almost too much to bear. He took a step, faltered and felt himself suddenly supported by Muhjah-Aji as she slid an arm around him to help bear his weight.

They gazed at one another for a long moment, ebony colored eyes gazing up into stormy gray ones and Muhjah-Aji felt a curious fluttering sensation in her heart. Blushing, she lowered her eyes and tried to divert the attention away from herself.

"Why do you do this?" she asked quietly.

Reyhan didn't answer but took another step, and leaned on Muhjah-Aji as much as he dared, determined to walk down the aisle and back. As they shuffled together past the other pallets, Reyhan was glad that she let the matter drop for the moment but he knew she would ask again. Her tenacious concern for him was heartwarming. 

"We're at the end of the aisle," Muhjah-Aji observed as they continued walking.

"So we are," Reyhan replied, his eyes focused on a new goal. Some of the healers were sitting around a small table situated a few feet away and he was determined to reach them. 

"You're being stubborn again," she observed. 

"Aiwa, I am." Reyhan grinned and then chuckled when he heard her muttered expletive about the obstinacy of men. 

Reyhan felt a surge of triumph when they arrived at the table and as polite greetings were exchanged, he almost laughed at the blush on a seemingly reluctant Muhjah-Aji's face after he innocently maneuvered her into the conversation. 

They chatted for a few minutes and Reyhan enjoyed the camaraderie of simply being with others but as was his habit, he slowly withdrew. He was immensely pleased that Muhjah-Aji seemed to be able to carry the conversation quite well and he felt strangely proud when she easily answered a healer's question. 

The feeling of pride was short lived, however when Reyhan suddenly flinched. The ever present throbbing in his shoulder flared up in an intense wave of agony that was too hard to ignore. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, stoically riding out the waves of pain until they slowly receded and he could think clearly once more. He opened his eyes moments later and found that he had become the subject of great concern. 

"Are you all right, bero?" Jarille asked and stood up, gently touching Reyhan's forearm. 

"Do you need another poultice for the wound?" another healer asked.

"I could brew more tea," a third healer suggested.

"Enough."

A startled silence fell over the group from Muhjah-Aji's quiet and imperious command and she lowered her eyes, realizing that she may have overstepped the boundaries as a care-giver.

"Forgive me," she said to the healers and accepted more of Reyhan's weight, pulling his good arm across her shoulders. "He tries to do too much too soon and his body is protesting. Will you please excuse us?"

Without waiting for any of the healers to reply, Muhjah-Aji carefully navigated Reyhan back towards the pallet, knowing that her actions were being curiously observed.

"You are quite…" Reyhan murmured tiredly but with a slight smile on his face as they approached the pallet, "…determined to make me rest, are you not?"

"Someone has to do it," Muhjah-Aji quipped. 

~*~ 

Once that she was certain the healers were no longer watching them, she single-handedly helped Reyhan back onto the pallet. Her movements were stiff with anger, her manner clearly indicating that she was agitated and it lasted until she glanced up at Reyhan. His slow, charming smile was entirely too appealing and it was her undoing; she sighed and shook her head.

"You are concerned about me," Reyhan said.

"I am not," Muhjah-Aji snorted and adjusted the crisp linen sheet across Reyhan's waist. "You are stubborn, rude, and foolish and if you don't bathe soon, you're going to smell like a camel." 

"You have an odd way of showing your lack of concern," Reyhan mused, leaning back against the pillows. His hand came up and slowly massaged his shoulder. 

"You have pushed yourself too far," Muhjah-Aji admonished and the expression on her face dared Reyhan to argue. "I should have Jarille prepare another cup of tea for you." 

Reyhan let out a long-suffering sigh as he shifted to find the comfort that stubbornly eluded him. His eyes were starting to close as his body's need for the healing power of sleep overcame him. "You care about me," he whispered. 

Muhjah-Aji waited until Reyhan had drifted into the comforting realm of slumber, and sat down on the chair by the side of the pallet. She glanced around to make certain that no one would hear her remark and leaned forward, lovingly brushing a hand across Reyhan's forehead. 

"I will do no such thing, warrior, for doing so would violate my oath and complicate matters even more than they are now."

~*~

"Will you discipline Jericho for leaving the citadel?" 

The warriors had paused outside the great golden arched doors that led to the warrior's forum and the audience that Ardeth knew was impatiently waiting for his arrival. He stared at Berin for a moment, thoughtfully rubbing his goatee as he struggled to regard Jericho's actions as a friend, not as a warrior.

Tactically it had not been a wise decision on Jericho's part but had he not commented to Jameel and Madjy several days ago regarding the commander's deep commitment to those warriors under his command?

_Each time there is the death of a warrior in his command, a piece of __Jericho__ is lost…_

Could he truly fault Jericho for his decision when, given the chance, he would do the same for Kedar, his childhood friend? 

"There will be no need for discipline," Ardeth finally replied as a ghost of a smile danced across his face. "Although I will readily admit that I believe Jericho will turn my hair gray before I reach fifty summers. However, we need to focus on the issues at hand and contemplate our future actions. Berin, take your men, ride out to where the Tuareg are believed to be camped and contact Drevick. I am extremely curious as to why they have not engaged the enemy as of yet."

"It will be done," Berin replied and silently said farewell to Nabil, clasping the other warrior's forearm. 

"What of Reyhan?" Zaki asked once the massive warrior had left the group. "From what you have indicated from your earlier talk with him, he may try and leave the citadel. He believes he has jeopardized the lives of our people."

"I will talk to him," Nabil said softly, glad for the chance to visit the younger warrior again. "But what to we know of this woman, Muhjah-Aji, who tends to him?"

"Her actions seem innocent enough; however, it would be prudent to observe her as well as Reyhan, aiwa?" Ardeth asked the gray eyed warrior.

"It will be done," Nabil replied, bowing, then, with a swirl of his robes left the group of warriors with the intention of visiting the healer's building.

~*~

_A/N – On a personal note, life has thrown yet another curve in my life and while I'm not one to divulge too many personal details, let's just say I tried to start a family yet again…and it didn't work.  So forgive me if the shout-out's are a bit brief. I'm doing all right and will battle this like everything else in my life – I will fight like a Medjai.  _

**_Dawn – _**_as always thanks for reading and reviewing, they are always greatly appreciated. Reyhan do something rash?  Why Dawn, whatever do you mean?  Lol_

**_Karri – _**_thanks for reading and checking in.  Reyhan hasn't had an easy time of it and life will get more complicated as the drama continues to unfold. Thanks for the review. _

**_The kid mdd – _**_If my updates make you happy, your reviews inspire me to get past the corner I've written myself into with Heroes.  Thanks as always for reading, and if you have questions, ask them my friend. I'm glad you're getting to know everyone and my warriors couldn't be happier.  I'm sending what I have to my beta for Heroes and hopefully that will be updated in a couple of weeks. Then it's on to "The Other Side."  So much to write, so little time.  ;-) _

**_Il Baqq – _**_You know between Madjy coming through and now Emir, I may have to open a hotel for Medjai warriors.  Lol  Emir is coming across very strong, and of course, very handsome.  Madjy is intense, like Sharif but with Emir, I'm getting a few different things…*waggles eyebrows*  Thanks for the review as always and I'm glad I did your beast proud in my writing.  _


	10. Part VIIII

_Part VIIII _

_The Tuareg encampment outside Akhmim …_

Drevick sat crossed-legged on the ground as he studied a map crudely drawn in the sand, and marked the last known location of the Rwalla-Hunud patrols.  The information had been given to him from his scouts and he frowned in concern from the last report – a large body of the black riders had been last seen riding towards another section of the desert.  

He was intrigued as to why they had suddenly moved from their normal position of surveillance and speculated that they had to be well aware of his recent and daring rescue of the Medjai patrol.  He had no doubt that they would be planning their retribution for his interference and he needed to move soon if he and his men wished to live to see another sunrise.  

"Playing nursemaid to a group of wounded Medjai wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I volunteered for this mission." Yousef remarked dryly and squatted down next to Drevick, handing him a water pouch.  

"Have they stopped resisting our aid or are they merely conserving their strength for another round?" Drevick pondered, looking up at his friend, a wan smile on his face.  He swallowed the water sparingly, conserving the precious liquid to be used in the hours to come.  

"They have all lost consciousness except the captain and he is asking to see you," Yousef said.  Grudgingly he had to admit to himself that he admired the Medjai's spirit and tenacity, remembering how valiantly they had fought as the Tuareg had converged upon them.  Despite their wounds and obvious suffering, the Medjai tried to repel the attack but to no avail; their captain then had wisely ordered the surrender.

"Does this captain have a name?" Drevick asked as he stood up and dusted the sand from his pants.    

"Emir Cohan I believe," Yousef replied.    

~*~

"Faster my good friend!" Jericho urged Bahir.  

The stallion responded to his master's command, lunging forward with a burst of speed.  Great blasts of air were expelled from Bahir's lungs as his powerful legs churned up the dry earth, the sound oddly in sync with the pounding of his hooves and of Jericho's heart.  

Jericho looked around at the warriors who had bravely chosen to accompany him goading their mounts to run impossibly faster; their horses stretching out their necks, straining to keep the pace that he set.  

The warriors thundered across the large section of flat open desert; in close pursuit came the Rwalla-Hunud, the silent black riders.  Jericho risked a backwards glance to see war spears leveled with the passing ground and arrows notched in powerful bows. He needed no further confirmation that the sights were aimed at the hearts of the retreating Medjai.  He frenetically prayed to Allah that Dharr, Jameel, Madjy and the rest of his warriors would not fall to the cursed Hunud.  

Bahir's strength was starting to wane and Jericho's gaze swept across the horizon, searching for a place to use as cover or even possibly hide until the danger had passed. 

Suddenly a hail of arrows sliced through the air along with a few spears as the race wore on, and reluctantly Jericho had to admire the skill and precision of their wielders.  An abrupt strangled cry announced that the Hunud had claimed one Medjai and Jericho gritted his teeth against his sorrow and anger over the loss of a warrior. He pulled on the reins, suddenly directing Bahir to the right.  He glanced over one shoulder, pleased to see that the others were following, but his heart constricted with the alien feeling of fear.  The black tide behind them undulated like a snake easily followed the same trail.

Pain unexpectedly blossomed in Jericho's right shoulder and he cried out, almost tumbling head first out of the saddle from the impact of an arrow.  He clung to Bahir, tenaciously guiding the horse towards a small ridge of mountains that had miraculously appeared in the distance.  

Dharr directed his horse to ride alongside Jericho's and reached over to help support him.  Together the two warriors led their brothers in arms across the desert towards what they hoped would be sanctuary.  

~*~

Kedar and Zaki had been patiently waiting outside of the warrior's forum for Ardeth's return when Talib and Solman joined them a few moments later, apparently recovered from their wounds.  

While they waited for the meeting's conclusion, Kedar informed the two warriors about the events of the past few hours and was certainly surprised by Talib's reaction when he learned of Jericho and Berin's departures.

"Never before would I think to question Ardeth's decision but, considering how dangerous the Hunud have proven to be, do you think it wise to have let them go?" he asked.  His eyes were colored like frost, an icy blue that surprised both Kedar and Zaki, the latter having never seen his blood brother so angry.

"The Rwalla will hound them across the desert," Solman stated, his dark brown eyes eloquently expressing his concerns.  "They kept us alive for only one purpose – to deliver the message that they easily can control all of our actions."

Kedar raised an eyebrow in surprise at Solman's statement and he turned to address the large warrior.  "And what makes you believe that, ya sahib?" he asked gently.

"They knew that we were riding out to seek information about Reyhan," Talib answered for Solman as his hand slipped down to rest on the hilt of his scimitar, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Kedar or Zaki.  "They were waiting for us just outside the citadel and moved to strike when the timing was right." 

Zaki thoughtfully rubbed the beard that graced his firm jaw line as he contemplated Talib's statement.  "Reyhan is in more danger than we had initially realized but why would the Hunud sabotage Talib's mission? Unless they did not want certain facts to come to light."

"The Rwalla will not rest until they have him." Solman gestured to Talib's injury and then his own.  "They gave us these to ensure that we would remember their warning and pass it along."

"I will always remember but it will not stop me from ferreting out the truth."  Talib's sapphire colored eyes blazed with a fierce determination as he turned to Kedar for his petition.

"Let Solman and I ride out once more, but this time we will disguise ourselves.  My intuition tells me there is more to the murder charge leveled at Reyhan and that the Rwalla are hiding something.  Let me do what you know I do best – I am more than named a seeker of truth."

"It may save his life," Solman softly interjected as Kedar weighed Talib's request. 

"It could end this war," Zaki added on. 

Kedar's dark gaze danced from one warrior to the next until he finally came to his decision.  He finally gave Talib and Solman permission to leave, but made them swear on their warrior vows that they would proceed with the utmost caution.  

As the two warriors said their farewells and hurried down the hallway, Zaki turned to Kedar, his golden eyes clouded with concern as he placed a hand on Kedar's shoulder.

"Ya ukh…you are my best friend, so you will surely understand my request when I ask that I be allowed to accompany them on this journey," he stated earnestly.  "Talib and I are…"

"Say no more, but once you return, you will have to explain to a less than pleased Ardeth about your impetuous decision, not me." Kedar smiled and clasped Zaki's forearm.  "May Allah watch over all of you and keep you safe…return to us, ya sahib."

Zaki hurried after Talib and Solman, wondering if he was embarking on an adventure that would ultimately save a life…or take his own.

~*~ 

"Honored Second al Usama approaches and may the gods grant you the strength to survive this encounter," Yousef dryly remarked to Drevick as he watched the large warrior's progress through the encampment.  He thought it ironic that none of his brave and well trained men dared to attack the imposing Medjai despite the animosity that emanated from both factions.   

Apparently his talent at story telling was far better than he realized and with a rueful grin, he gingerly touched the back of his head.  The injury had faded but for the rest of his days he would enjoy the memory of his brief encounter at crossing blades with Berin.  

"Your warrior brothers have arrived," Drevick stated softly to Emir, placing a friendly hand on the captain's shoulder.  

Emir's dark eyes widened in surprise and despite his wounds, he found his first tentative smile of the day.  "The lion is here…" he whispered as he craned his neck, watching Berin's advance.  

"Indeed and let us hope I can appease the lion before he bites my head off," Drevick muttered as he stood up to greet the warrior.  

"Call off your warriors, Tuareg or I shall do it for you," Berin growled in lieu of a salutation.  His dark eyes were blazing with anger that quickly changed to astonishment when he recognized Emir and his men.  

"A pleasure to see you again, Honored Second," Drevick said and gestured for them to walk towards his tent, hoping that the warrior would understand his silent request for privacy.  "There is much we need to discuss."

"What I have to say can be stated right here." Berin ignored the subtle appeal and knelt down next to Emir, his hand touching the man's shoulder in a gentle greeting.  

"My eyes…see you with great joy, ya ukh…" Emir sighed weakly, reaching up to clasp Berin's hand. 

"My heart rejoices to see you alive, ya ukh but I must ask - how in the name of Allah did you wind up in a Tuareg camp?" Berin murmured and glanced at Drevick, the customary scowl settling on his face.  

"This is a strange time we live in…and who was once thought of…as an enemy has riddled my old beliefs…" a ghost of a smile flittered across Emir's handsome face, "and saved my life and the lives of my men."  

"I am waiting for your explanation," Berin impatiently said to Drevick.  

~*~

_"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one." ~ Spock, Star Trek, "Wrath of Khan."  _

~*~

"Ardeth?" Kedar called out as he entered the empty room.  "What in the name of Allah is going on? I saw Abdul-Hafiz in the hallway moments ago and he looked more agitated than usual.  His arms were moving so fast he almost looked like a deranged hummingbird."

Ardeth barely acknowledged Kedar's presence and continued staring through the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city and main square below.  With a deep sigh, he leaned his forehead against the cool glass and placed a palm against it as he watched the citizens of his kingdom go about their business.  

Kedar came over to Ardeth's side and silently battled the sense of foreboding that had invaded his being ever since the meeting had adjourned a short while ago.  He had been waiting outside in the hallway when the Elders and commanders emerged and his suspicions were aroused when none seemed to be able to meet his inquiring gaze.  Silent and grim, they moved like apparitions and disappeared moments later through another doorway, leaving a very perplexed Kedar staring after them.  

Kedar studied Ardeth, and suddenly realized that never before had he seen his friend look so defeated. It was as if the weight of his sovereignty bowed his strong shoulders.

"Did Abdul-Hafiz say anything?" Ardeth's softly asked question broke the silence that had been lengthening between the two men.  

"Nothing that made any sense."

"Do you know when it came time for the Elders and counselors to vote, his was the only opposing vote?  A decision that had surprised me but should not have, considering he always liked and admired Nabil."

"Talk to me, ya sahib," Kedar gently coaxed.  "What have the Elders done now?"

"Look at them." Ardeth swept his hand across the myriad of scenes below as life for the inhabitants of the citadel continued in its mundane routine.  "I almost envy their ignorance and complete but blind trust in their king.  Life for them is not choices…or politics…or treaties; it is simply to live each day.'

"Their king is a good man," Kedar said.    

Ardeth shrugged but couldn't meet Kedar's intense and knowing gaze.  He stared out across the horizon and clenched his jaw in anger when the ever persistent shadow of the Hunud marred the landscape.

"The Elders have decided to grant the Rwalla-Hunud's demand.  I am to surrender Reyhan to them by nightfall…" Ardeth abruptly began without preamble.  

Kedar's snort of disbelief stopped Ardeth's speech.  "They wish to send Reyhan to his death?" he asked incredulously.  

"They believe the Hunud will agree to negotiations and have sent a messenger to them this very hour with the stipulations.  Reyhan is to be released with a squadron of warriors and an envoy of ambassadors, the latter believing they can talk the enemy in to accepting a temporary truce.  Once it has been established, the Medjai would then be present during Reyhan's trial to maintain the terms of the treaty, thereby satisfying the blood feud and the demand for justice."

Ardeth looked over at Kedar, his eyes bright with too many suppressed emotions yet he remained silent while his friend absorbed the incredible news.

"Do you really believe that the Hunud will agree to a tentative truce?" Kedar finally asked.

Ardeth refused to answer and returned to the view below, placing one hand against the window pane in what could have been a mute gesture of farewell.  "I fear I will lose more than Reyhan once Nabil learns of this new development," he whispered sadly.  

~*~

_A/N – Life goes on, it just depends on how you choose to live it. I'm getting better with each passing day and things aren't looking as bleak as they once did. I have my friends to thank for you that and you all know who you are…*smiles*_

_Thanks for the reviews on this story but puh-lease! SUMbody tell me that the chapters flow and make sense; I'm confused as to how the FF story is now caught up to my WOD story.  I'm pretty sure I didn't forget a chapter between the two sites but hey, I'm an old lady and I tend to get forgetful now and then…*winks*  _

_On to the shout-outs:_

**_Nakhti_**_ – there you are, I was getting worried about you.  And yes I'm going to ask here because I need a fluff-injection…are you going to update HN yet? I'll send you a nice giftie via FEDEX and his name begins with an "A".  *wink wink* And laws yes…Ardeth…ardent…Ardeth…ardent.  Mmmmmmm  What? Sorry, I digress.  Thanks for catching up and you've asked for more Ardeth large and in charge, well your going to get it.  Thanks again for reviewing, I love reading your comments.  *smiles*_

**_Karri – _**_I'm glad you like my OC's and I think it ironic that you mention how entertaining my healers are…the next story coming up will deal with a healer and his attempt to murder Ardeth. *waggles eyebrows*  Thanks for reading and hope all is well in your world with a certain blonde elf.  _

**_Dawn – _**_You should always follow your instincts when it comes to Muhjah-Aji – she is just plain bad news.  Shhhhhh! and thanks for reading, it's greatly appreciated._

**_Ladybug – _**_I have to say this here…Emir…Eomer…Emir…Eomer.  Is this a sign? LOL  I'm glad Kedar came across in a way you could picture, and writing about his friendship with Ardeth has been a delight.  One of these days, missy, you are going to have to dive back into your Medjai Chronicles and give us more stories about these two when they were younger.  _

**_The kidd md _**_– Thanks for the kind words, everyday gets a lot better.  As for Berin, you surprise me by remembering what he said a few chapters ago but I like how you remember these things.  Berin truly cares for Nabil and when the time comes he will have a tough time facing a problem that he can do nothing about.  As for liking BIG warriors, girl, so do I.  I call this the Big Boy Brigade: Berin, Zaki, Solman, and Makin.  LOL Considering the trouble I get Ardeth into, I think it's a good idea to have some big warriors around to protect him, don't you agree?  *winks*_

**_SerenaFehr_******_– thanks for the double shot and of course, all your help.  *warm smile*  Reyhan's shoulder wound not healing is indeed ominous but gangrene is the least of his problems.  I almost feel sorry for Drevick but I daresay as time goes by, I think Berin will come to accept him…almost.  Well, reluctantly…erm, kind of.  LOL Thanks for the review!  _


	11. Part X

_Part X  _

If a man were to be judged by his material possessions, then Nabil believed he would be considered a pauper since he didn't own very much.  His foster parents had been poor and what few treasured mementos he did have from his childhood were kept back at his tribe in a small wooden box.   

Nabil felt that his personal wealth stemmed from his choice of friends and associates, and that his riches lay within their loyalty and support.  To him, no amount of gold could ever compare to the deep bonds of friendship that flourished within the warrior sect.  

Inspired by the brotherhood of warriors, Nabil had stopped at his quarters prior to visiting Reyhan and decided to give his half brother a small gift.  He hoped that Reyhan would appreciate the gesture and understand the significance behind it - Nabil would make the public claim tonight that he accepted Reyhan as blood. 

The present came from Nabil's cache of weapons; a three pronged dagger that was part of a set given to him from his tribe's weapons master. It was perfectly balanced and weighted, the blade lovingly honed to razor sharpness.  

Nabil hoped the act of giving it to Reyhan would denote the growing bond between them and ultimately it would be used in performing the blood brother rites.

Nabil left his quarters with the dagger securely wrapped in a soft cloth pouch and headed towards the blacksmith shops with the intention of doing one minor alteration.  He would ask the blacksmith to brand the family crest of both brothers and meld the symbols into one on the handle.  

~*~

Talib, Zaki, and Solman had managed to leave the citadel without being seen by the Hunud and although they thought that occurrence odd, they didn't question their good fortune.  They spent the remainder of the morning riding from village to village, gleaning as much information as they could pertinent to their quest.  

Talib relished the chance to exercise his powers of deduction and research; he was in his element and thrived on the challenge.  He was methodical and his questions were direct and concise, leaving no room for speculation or conjuncture.

By noon, the three disguised warriors rode into a remote village located near the town of Amra, acting upon information given to them at the last settlement.  The person they had spoken to told them about a witness to the Rwalla's murder who was hiding in fear of retribution.  

As the horses trotted down the main thoroughfare, Talib softly remarked to the others that it seemed odd that activity within the village was almost nonexistent.  As his alert gaze swept across the dilapidated and crumbling homes, more than once he saw someone dart behind a wall or scurry away from sight.  

The sensation of being watched was felt by all and despite the lack of formal greeting from the town's people for the dust covered travelers, the warriors stopped their horses in front of the last home.

Talib was tying his horse's reins to the railing when suddenly a small, frail, and shriveled up old woman hurried from her hiding place within the doorframe.  She waved her thin arms in the air and cackled with agitation as she advanced on the warrior, her ire directed at them all.  

"Go away, we have no use for the likes of ye here," she crowed and pointed one gnarled finger at Talib.  "You and your holy kind have all but forgotten us…ye shame the title of Guardians of the Desert."

"Old woman, we mean no harm and come here seeking information." Talib gestured to Zaki and Solman who had yet to dismount.  "We are but poor tired travelers…"

The woman's laugher came out as a short bark as she wagged one finger at Talib in silent admonishment for his lie.  She pointed to his tattoos that his face covering had failed to conceal as her merriment turned into a long raspy cough.

"You are…Medjai," she said between gasps of breath.  

"Easy, honored elder." Solman suddenly appeared by her side and slid a strong arm around her thin waist.  He gently moved her to a small bench situated by the front door.  "Do you wish for some water?"

Placated by Solman's gentle attention, she boldly pulled down his covering as well, pleased when his sacred marks were revealed.  "You're a…big one, aren't you?" she rasped and started coughing again.

Talib patiently waited until the woman was settled on her chair, and thought she looked very much like a queen holding court with three suitors. He shook his head over the absurdity of it all.  Yet he impulsively decided to bestow a gift upon her, wondering if his actions would loosen her tongue.  He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a few dates, handing them to her.

"We are here looking for a man who is believed to have once been a Rwalla-Hunud and…" Talib paused and glanced at Zaki, wondering how much he should reveal.   

"Be at ease, good warriors.  I am not so old or my eyesight so dim that I cannot see what transpires between all of you.  In the past we have learned to mistrust strangers who come in disguise and use the ruse of friendship in order to plunder our village." The old woman took another long swallow from Solman's water pouch and wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve, her eyes shrewdly assessing each warrior.  

"We hide our identities in fear of an attack by the enemy, honored elder," Zaki explained and stood next to Talib.  

"A wise decision considering I have what you seek," the woman said and leaned back in the chair, a satisfied look on her weathered face.

"You know why we are here?" Talib asked.

"I know many things, especially when gossip travels like the wind and is faster than those on horseback.  I have given shelter to this witness that you speak of and, against my better wishes, he wants to come forth and speak with you."

Talib and Zaki glanced at one another in surprise.  "Is this witness here now?" he asked.

"His alliance to the Hunud has been swayed?" Zaki wondered.  "Can he be trusted?"

"You will have to decide amongst yourselves if I am trustworthy or not."  A man suddenly emerged from the shadows and boldly approached the warriors. He was a tall, gangly youth with the whisper of whiskers barely gracing his jaw line.  His appearance looked harried and gaunt; shadows from his past darkened his eyes.  "As for any alliance to my people, that was washed away when they willingly surrendered to the madness that has prevailed and poisoned them.  They have turned into a nation of warmongers, eager to destroy for the sake of a lie and petty politics."

With Solman's aid, the old woman stood up and gestured for all of them to go inside.  "It is safer to speak of these things away from the very ears of those who have fed me this day's gossip," she said as she herded them through the door.  She paused on the threshold, satisfied that all was going according to her will and stepped inside, missing the small figure of a boy creeping towards one of her opened windows.

~*~

"Tabari-Yervant was killed by a Rwalla, and I saw the cruel deed with my own eyes," Uthmann-Dunoud stated softly.  He stared dejectedly at his folded hands that rested on the small table the warriors had gathered around, refusing to let the intense gazes of the Medjai intimidate him.  The burden of his guilt was far more pressing.  Although the warriors seemed silent and impassive, he sincerely hoped that they would not judge him until all the facts had been presented.

"Tell us what happened," Talib coaxed.

Uthmann-Dunoud nodded and slowly, he spoke of when Reyhan, Drevick and Tabari-Yervant had met, supposedly to bid farewell to their friendship; their continued association was too much of a risk.  "Tizemet-Bahac had found out about Tabari's meeting and thought it was the perfect opportunity to gain power by killing the Medjai and Tuareg.  The leaders gave permission to Tizemet to gather a small war party, organizing and orchestrating the ambush with deadly precision.  We attacked them without warning and the battle was over in moments."

~*~

"It is a fine gift and the blacksmith has done an exceptional job with the design." Ardeth balanced the dagger on his fingertips and peered down the edge, silently appreciating the skill and craftsmanship of the weapon.  He glanced at Kedar, knowing that his actions were seen as a deliberate stall tactic on his part and reluctantly he handed the dagger back to Nabil.

"When were you going to give it to Reyhan?" Kedar inquired.

"I was on my way to the healer's when I received the message that you wished to see me," Nabil replied and glanced apprehensively at both warriors.   Since his arrival, both men had been acting strangely and seemed hesitant to approach whatever subject that needed to be addressed.  "I am going to petition the Elders later this afternoon with my intentions of announcing that I accept Reyhan as my…"

"The Elders are sequestered in a meeting and are not to be disturbed," Ardeth quickly informed Nabil.  He took a deep breath for fortification and then continued, "There is another matter we must address, ya ukh and it has to do with Reyhan's future here in the kingdom."

"I would wager that the Elders will not be prepared for you accepting Reyhan as blood," Kedar muttered, hating the political maneuvering that had placed Ardeth and Nabil on opposing sides of an issue.  

"Whether the Elders are prepared or not is of no consequence.  I will accept Reyhan as my brother and will make the proclamation tonight, with or without their blessing," Nabil declared.  

Ardeth placed a friendly hand on Nabil's shoulder.  "Ya sahib, there is something I must tell you," he began softly.

~*~

Reyhan's slumber was shattered near noon when the constant throbbing in his shoulder flared up with a breath stealing intensity.  It shredded through the once comforting and safe realm of sleep with frightening ease.  He grimaced and reached up to touch it, the first tendrils of unease settling in his mind.  Jarille had estimated that the wound should have been healing and yet despite his best efforts, it was getting worse with each passing hour.

Reyhan's gaze swept through the room looking for Muhjah-Aji but she was absent, most likely having returned to her dining hall duties.  Temporarily left alone, he felt the overwhelming urge to leave the citadel before he endangered those around him and, foolishly, he crawled off the pallet.  He stood up on trembling legs and took several deep breaths to strengthen himself, eventually taking a few tentative steps.  The world tilted viciously for a few moments and Reyhan had to wait until the spell passed.

He shuffled past the rows of empty pallets, waved off the friendly inquiries of the other healers, and had managed to arrive at the door.  When Jarille stopped him, asking him a multitude of questions, it drained Reyhan of his strength and concentration. He faltered and almost panicked, believing he would never be able to convince the astute healer that he merely desired some exercise.

Waves of agony rolled down from his shoulder and crashed over him; he no longer felt his hand or fingers.  Dark spots danced before his eyes but Reyhan had convinced Jarille that he was all right.  Triumphantly he pushed the door open but abruptly stopped when he came face to face with an astonished Muhjah-Aji.

"What in the name of all that is holy are you doing now?" she asked, clearly displeased by Reyhan's sudden burst of mobility.

~*~

"When the dust had settled Tabari-Yervant was lying in a pool of blood on the ground, a knife buried to the hilt in his stomach," Uthmann-Dunoud said, his eyes distant and clouded as the memories washed over him.  "Despite the intricate symbols on the handle proclaiming it to be Tizemet-Bahac's, blame was placed on the Medjai and he was taken prisoner."

"We know that the Tuareg had escaped and as soon as he reached the safety of his own people, he began to campaign for aid in getting Reyhan released.  But what was the motive for Tizemet-Bahac to kill Tabari-Yervant?" Talib asked the witness.

Uthmann-Dunoud sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly weary as he tried to control the tremors in his hands.  His people would hunt him down for this traitorous act and kill him.  But it was better to die and face judgment with a clean conscience than as a participant in the murder of an innocent man.  "Tizemet-Bahac had killed the son of a powerful and influential war chieftess, and by doing so had furthered her own position within the ranks. Of course, Damya-Ultafa demanded retribution for the death of her son and Reyhan was…"

"War chieftess?  Tizemet-Bahac is a woman?" Zaki asked incredulously.

Uthmann-Dunoud nodded. "Surely you know that the Rwalla-Hunud has evolved into a matriarchal society; the women are our rulers and have been so for hundreds of years.  We men are sub-citizens, obeying their every dictate and acting as helpers or slaves when the circumstances demand it.  Although Reyhan was held prisoner by a group of men, it was Tizemet-Bahac who ordered his interrogation and punishment."

Uthmann-Dunoud leaned forward, his voice lowered as he revealed, "The Rwalla has planned their revenge against the Medjai for a very long time and have implanted a spy to live within the infamous citadel gates.  She is a helper in one of the kitchens I believe."

"What is her name?" Talib demanded angrily and stood up from the table.  His mind reeled with Uthmann-Dunoud's revelations and the fact that the danger that had threatened the Medjai from outside the citadel was now inside its very walls.

~*~

_A/N – should I run and hide for leaving a cliffie?  [eg]  How many of you saw that coming?  Hmmmm?  Thanks so much for the reviews, they are greatly appreciated and keep the fires of inspiration burning brightly.  _

_On to the shout-outs:_

**_Dreamy – _**_Oh dear, did I just give you more to worry about?  And your right, Nabil will be a force to be reckoned with and I, for one, wouldn't want to be in Ardeth's place.  Thanks for reviewing.  ;-)_

**_Karri – _**_Ah your words are too kind and I have to confess, exploring Ardeth's insecurities [although he doesn't have many..lol] has been quite fun and interesting.  I'm so pleased you're enjoying my version of Ardeth who comes across more as a man than warrior.  Don't get me wrong, however, the 'warrior Ardeth' will show up in the following chapters. And we all know we don't want to mess with 'warrior Ardeth.'  Thanks for the feedback!_

**_The Kidd mdd – _**_Day by day and ain't you a sweetheart for emailing Ladybug.  Just to let you know your whisper/email made her muse perk up and while I can't promise if she'll be submitting anything soon, at least she's thinking about more Medjai Chronicles. And that's a good thing.  In answer to your question, "_Will Ardeth really be able to hand over Nabil's half brother?" _let me throw it back at you? If you were queen of the Medjai [oh happy day…lol] what would you do to save thousands of lives?  And no, it isn't easy being king…you can hug Ardeth if you wish.  Lol  ;-)_

**_SerenaFehr_****_ – _**_Enemies now allies, coming together to save one, I'm glad you like the twist on things.  But in the end, will Drevick and Reyhan still be friends, if they survive this little adventure?  Thanks for the feedback and of course, all your help.  ;-) _


	12. Part XI

Part XI

"You have sent Reyhan to his death."

Ardeth flinched from the undertones of hurt and disbelief in Nabil's voice and steeled himself for the eruption that would soon follow. "I have done what is necessary to protect our people and stop any further loss of life," he clarified.

"If the Hunud agree, this could end the war," Kedar said. 

"And what proof is there that the Hunud will do what we expect? Are there any guarantees in place that they will bring Reyhan to trial, and not kill him?" Nabil shoved his hand through his hair in frustration as he tried to comprehend the decision to surrender his half brother. 

"The Elders believe that the…" Ardeth started to patiently explain. 

"Who truly governs the Medjai?" Nabil's softly asked question interrupted Ardeth. "The Elders were placed in the capacity to advise, not rule in place of my king."

"Are you questioning my authority?" Ardeth inquired, a hint of censure and menace in his voice. 

"Tread lightly, ya sahib," Kedar advised Nabil and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Ardeth is doing what he thinks is best for us all." 

Nabil shrugged it off and turned back to Ardeth, his gray eyes flashing silver from anger. "It is my right as your loyal subject and commander to question a decision that could…"

"Am I to weigh the lives of our people against one warrior? Is that it, Nabil?" Ardeth snapped. He stormed over to the windows and gestured to the teeming populace below. "Am I to have every man, woman and child sacrificed so Reyhan can live? Is he worth destroying so many lives?"

"I know how you are, ya sahib. Could you rest at night knowing the innocent paid for Reyhan's freedom?" Kedar asked Nabil. 

"Apparently we do not know Nabil as well as we thought we did, Kedar," Ardeth sighed and folded his arms across his chest, watching as Nabil struggled with his turbulent emotions. "Never would I have expected you to act this way…"

"You are asking me to surrender my brother," Nabil said hoarsely. Sorrow and defeat emanated from his eyes and he looked pleadingly at both men for understanding. 

Kedar shook his head, hating the look on Nabil's face and recognized the warning signs that he was withdrawing from them. "Ya ukh, if we do not give up Reyhan, then you are demanding that our people die for a cause they know nothing about."

"I am asking that you allow Reyhan to leave with the delegation tonight and to put a small amount of trust in my decision." Ardeth walked over to Nabil and held out his hand. "I request this not as your king or chieftain but as your friend and warrior brother. I need for you to understand that what we must do is for the greater good."

"Who initiated the vote?" Nabil knew his off-topic question caught Ardeth unprepared but he had to confirm the growing suspicion in his mind.

Ardeth's gaze slid to Kedar's for a moment before he answered, his hand dropping down to his side. "Counselor Thias."

Nabil chuckled wryly and shook his head. "His hatred for me escalates in leaps and bounds; I am not surprised by your answer. It would seem that Thias sought to hurt me through different means and unwittingly, the Elders have assisted him."

"I need to know that I have your complete loyalty and support on this matter," Ardeth asked. 

Nabil refused to meet Ardeth's perceptive gaze as his hand came up and lightly touched the commander insignia on his robes. 

"Nabil?" Kedar called gently, keenly watching his actions. "Do not act unwisely." 

Several tense moments passed before Nabil finally reached his decision; he quickly ripped the emblem off and handed it to Ardeth. "My answer comes not from the commander or warrior, but your friend. I hereby resign my position within the warrior sect…"

"La," Ardeth shook his head in amazement as he stared down at the insignia, refusing to take it. It fluttered to the floor moments later. 

"…and assume the role of a loyal citizen, away from the sharp talons of Thias and my enemies. I will not publicly discredit the Elders' decision, thereby showing a false pretense of support on this matter. Privately, you know as well as I, that I cannot let Reyhan fall into the hands of the Hunud."

"Do you wish to be brought up on charges of insubordination?" Ardeth asked disbelievingly. Never would he have believed that Nabil would forfeit so much for Reyhan, his mind still reeling from the ramifications. 

A faint smile danced across Nabil's face. "I am no longer in the warrior sect. If you wish to charge me as a traitor, then you can send the guards to the healer's building. I will be there visiting my brother."

Ardeth reached out and grabbed Nabil's upper arm, stopping him from leaving the room and forcing him to face his king. "If you leave, I will implement your resignation immediately. You will be stripped of your commission, your name expunged from the records and Berin will become commander of the tribe of the Fifth. Is this what you truly want, ya sahib? To be remembered as the man who had forsaken his warrior oath and rejected the means to end this bloody war?"

Pain flared up in Nabil's eyes but he clenched his jaw against it just as he steeled his heart against the entreaty showing in Ardeth's dark eyes. "I would rather be remembered as the man who followed the dictate of his heart and saved the life of his brother."

"Your lack of trust in me on this matter is appalling," Ardeth fumed, his patience at an end, and he spun away from Nabil. "Go!" he commanded and imperiously waved his hand. "Do what you have to but remember that I am still king. And I will not hesitate to have you thrown in the stockade for your traitorous actions."

Nabil approached Ardeth and gently touched one shoulder; he frowned when Ardeth stiffened. "Your lack of understanding is troubling to me, ya sahib. You, of all people, should know how I have longed for a family, and wished that I no longer stood alone in this world. If you were I and Kedar was Reyhan, then I must ask – what would you do?"

Silence was Nabil's companion as he exited the room. 

"I am going for a walk. Would you care to join me?" Reyhan offered Muhjah-Aji a wan smile and his good arm, praying that she would accept it instead of forcing him back to his pallet.

"Stubborn, foolish, idiotic man," Muhjah-Aji muttered under her breath, glaring as her hand slid along his forearm. Her dark eyes swept over his appearance, gloomily noting his pale complexion and the light sheen that covered his skin. Her heart ached from his obvious distress but she steeled herself against such foolish emotions. 

"I was right…you do like me," he said faintly and motioned for them to continue. 

"Like you be damned." Muhjah-Aji tried to ignore the happiness sparkling in Reyhan's eyes just as she unsuccessfully tried to quell her own joy in seeing him. "What are you doing?"

The smile slowly faded from Reyhan's face and he reached up, caressing her face with his fingertips. He knew he surprised her with his tender touch but there was very little time and he could expand no further energy in lengthy explanations. "I need to leave, little one," he said quietly. "Come with me and I shall gladly explain my intentions, as absurd as they may sound."

"This is madness," Muhjah-Aji exclaimed but allowed Reyhan to lead her out of the building. "I should go back and get a blanket to cover you since you are determined to go on this walk."

"Forgive me if I need to keep moving." Reyhan gave her a lopsided grin. "If I lose what momentum I have gained, I fear I will fall down."

"We can't have that," Muhjah-Aji mumbled as she ran back inside and grabbed a spare blanket from a nearby pallet. Furtively she darted over to the shelves where she knew the healers kept all of their potions and grabbed a small vial, quickly hiding it in her sleeve. She ran out of the building and into the street, ignoring the dull pain in her heart when she realized that this betrayal of Reyhan would hurt far more than she realized.

She had fallen in love with the warrior and according to the mandate of her tribe, the Rwalla-Hunud, it was forbidden.

Drevick was beginning to learn about the many facets of Berin al Usama, and was drawing some surprising conclusions from his personal observations. The skill and prowess of Berin as a warrior was undisputed, but initially Drevick had thought his size and incredible strength often lent to the illusion that speed was a weakness. 

Gentleness and compassion were two other traits that Drevick thought to be lacking in the composition of Berin's character and yet, watching his ministrations to Emir and the rest of the wounded had effectively changed his mind. Inaccurate perceptions laid to rest, Drevick had to grudgingly admit that Berin was far more complex than he had realized. 

Yet beneath Berin's gruff exterior, hidden far away from view, Drevick felt sure there was an unhealed wound on the warrior's heart. And its pain would flare up occasionally, although quickly banked, in the warrior's eyes when Berin believed no one was watching. 

To deduce that Berin was far more human than he had originally concluded left an odd taste in his mouth and the young Tuareg leader shook his head over his fanciful thoughts. Sometimes it was better to have the enemy remain a faceless entity than to understand the ways of a warrior's heart. 

"I know that look, and you're thinking too much again." Yousef shook his head as he stood next to his friend and leader, placing a hand on Drevick's shoulder. "It's the same look you had when you approached your father about saving Reyhan, when you petitioned the Elders…"

"You know me well," Drevick replied. 

"I should since I'm your friend but I must ask, is it wise…" Yousef's question was interrupted when a messenger arrived in camp.

"This is for you, sir." The tired rider handed Drevick the parchment and then left without waiting for a reply. 

Drevick quickly read the news and then glanced up, not surprised to see Berin striding towards them. 

"Call your men to arms, warrior," he called out. "The Hunud are harassing a small party of Medjai and it is believed that one of the casualties is Commander ibn Sakhr."

Bahir tossed his head as his silken mane fluttered like a banner in the breeze, trumpeting a challenge into the air. He reared back on his hind legs, his front hooves slashing the air with deadly precision as the enemy crept closer to his fallen warrior. His nostrils flared as he pawed the ground and he snorted, nodding his head as if daring them to come closer. He suddenly whirled around and slammed his haunch into a Hunud horse, his exultant scream drowning out the cries of pain. 

Bahir was a magnificent animal to behold, a stallion in his prime, whose coat rippled with muscles and glistened from his exertions. He stood over Jericho, determined to protect the man who had saved his life, unwavering in his vigilance. 

The Rwalla-Hunud had formed a semi-circle around the Medjai horse and rider, respectful of the obvious fighting prowess that the animal possessed but just as determined to capture the commander. They closed in like jackals scenting blood, their spears lowered as they quickly improvised a new plan. 

Dharr struggled to reach Jericho, ignoring his own wounds as the fighting continued and he refused to believe that victory would elude them. He fell to his knees, partly from blood loss, mostly from disbelief that the Hunud were patiently stalking them with the skill of a predator. He looked up when the barbed tip of a spear appeared in front of him, hovering a few inches from his face. Calling upon the last reserves of his strength, Dharr pushed himself to his feet and swayed unsteadily. 

Around him lay the dead and the dying, and Dharr's anger surfaced, pushing aside all caution. He raised his scimitar and ignored the trembling in his arm, pointing the tip at the black rider that was slowly advancing upon him. His sherry colored eyes were dark with rage, and his lips curled back in a defiant snarl. An errant wind toyed with his long, curly hair, whipping it about and making him look wild and savage.

"Come and kill me if you can," he goaded the helmeted rider. 

The Medjai and Tuareg riders surged over the crest of a small dune and came to an abrupt stop overlooking the grisly tableau below. Few warriors remained standing and the Hunud were taunting the rest with their spears.

"What is he doing?" Yousef gestured to Dharr's standoff. "He is insane."

"He is Medjai," Berin replied tersely and gave the order to ride. 

Drevick thought it strange that he needed no further elaboration on Berin's statement as they plunged down the side of the dune; it made perfect sense. He withdrew his blade and gave his battle cry. 

The Hunud leaned down in the saddle, and tilted her head as if studying Dharr since his actions were certainly confusing. The tip of her spear never wavered and had almost touched the warrior's blade when she abruptly turned in the saddle and glanced over her shoulder. The odds of this fight were no longer in her favor and she turned back to the Medjai and gave him a jaunty salute. 

"Next time warrior, there will be no standoff," she shouted over her shoulder as she wheeled her horse around and rode away.

A/N – I'm still running. LOL But I thank ye kindly for the reviews and it's nice to see I caught everyone off guard. Hold on to the bar and make sure your belts are fastened; the ride is going to get a lot bumpier. 

Shout-outs:

**Nakhti - **TREACHERY, THY NAME IS WOMAN indeed and I'm sorry to say, Muhjah is a spy. And in order to fulfill her vow, she must do the hardest thing in her life and that's coming up in the next few parts. I've updated and now anxiously wait for yours on Harem Nights. nudge nudge

**Karri – **"Ardeth the Warrior" was in the chapter and will appear again…he has no choice, does he? I'm really having fun writing him this way and I'm glad you're enjoying it as well. Thanks!

**The Kid Mdd – **Glad to see I caught you off balance and as I've said, the ride isn't over yet. Solman, Zaki and Talib will help out more than you think in the coming parts and Muhjah will have to make a decision that change her life forever. All the threads that I've started will pull together to either reveal or unravel…heh heh

**Dawn – **I could never forget you, especially with your original story on Fictionpress called "Salvation" [psst! A must read. LOL] however, I didn't see your name for part 10 unless FF ate it. I too like the present Nabil wants to give and it's so symbolic of their union as brothers. But as the title of this story suggests, is blood really thicker than water? And to what lengths will Nabil go to keep Reyhan safe? Thanks for reading.

**SerenaFehr – **a spy in the citadel, a love betrayed, and a brother who will do anything for Reyhan…I feel bad for both Ardeth and Nabil. Drevick and Reyhan will remain friends, I believe, since the foundation of their friendship was never based on hatred. It's the least I can do for the poor guys. Lol 

**Ladybug1 – **You're right, it's been very hard for Nabil to open up and accept Reyhan, past hurts and memories often impede his decisions. But Nabil will do what he believes is right, even if it costs him his own life. And writing Talib so inquisitive was a joy…tingling was even better. Heh heh 

Thanks for the reviews! Onwards…


	13. Part XII

_Part XII_

As the mixed group of warriors and men approached the Medjai, the Hunud scattered like seeds in the wind, chased by a few of the more eager Tuareg.

Berin jumped off his horse before it had stopped moving and ran over to Jericho's body, slowing down as he cautiously approached the stallion that stood guard. He reached out one hand and softly crooned to the agitated animal, aware that Drevick was close behind him.

"I know that animal," Drevick murmured as he gazed at the white star on the horse's chest, once considered a birth defect. This was the legendary Bahir and the warrior none other than Commander ibn Sakhr.

Berin gingerly touched Bahir's velvet soft muzzle, crooning nonsensical words of comfort, and then issued terse orders. "I want you to slowly walk over to Jericho and for the love of Allah, sheath your weapons," he instructed Drevick and two other Tuareg.

Drevick knelt down by Jericho's side and with the help of another, gently turned the warrior over. Eyes as black and as fathomless as the night fluttered open and Jericho stared in surprise at the Tuareg surrounding him.

"Easy Medjai," Drevick grinned at the shocked expression on the warrior's face. "We are now allies and are here to help you."

"This is not…paradise but…hell," Jericho muttered weakly. He flinched when Drevick's hands brushed against the shaft of the arrow and against his will his eyes slid shut from the pain. He opened them again when he thought of his warriors, the concern for them overriding any physical discomfort.

"D-dharr?" he asked through clenched teeth. "Jameel? Madjy? I must…know…"

Drevick looked around the battle site for Yousef and found him a few feet away, helping Jameel to his feet. Madjy was sitting on the ground leaning against another Tuareg, one hand pressed against his bloody side.

"They are fine," Berin answered for Drevick, his response purposely vague. He grabbed Bahir's halter and led the now subdued animal over to Jericho. "Can you ride?"

"Aiwa," Jericho replied, his voice weak but firm. With the Tuareg's help he managed to stand, and despite his wounds, found his first smile of the day. Bahir had practically dragged Berin over in his eagerness to see his master.

"Sahil…sahil ya Taiyib sahib," Jericho softly murmured as the stallion rubbed its nose against his robes. He lovingly scratched Bahir's ears, never guessing that while he was distracted, Berin would seize the opportunity.

"Ya ukh, I must do this," Berin whispered to Jericho as he gripped the shaft of the arrow and pulled.

Jericho's startled cry of pain echoed over the land as his knees buckled and he would have crumpled to the ground if not for Drevick and his men. Weakly he reassured the startled Bahir and then glared at Berin. "You could…have…warned me," he growled.

Berin shrugged his shoulders and tossed the arrow away. "Samah ana, but I did what was necessary considering the circumstances. We must leave at once, before the Hunud will gather their forces and strike again."

"On that we are agreed," Drevick said as his gaze swept over the landscape, searching for signs of the enemy.

A temporary bandage was quickly applied to Jericho's shoulder and once Berin was seated on Bahir, Drevick and a few of his men helped a semi-conscious Jericho climb up into the saddle.

Berin frowned when Jericho abruptly slumped against him but it was better this way. The ride would tax what remaining strength the elder warrior had left. His dark gaze scanned the survivors and he was relieved to see that the Medjai had suffered few losses. But what loss they did suffer was staggering – Jameel held onto Dharr's limp body and Berin wasn't sure if the warrior was still alive or not.

As the Medjai and Tuareg riders raced across the desert, they were very aware that their actions were being watched by the Hunud situated on a higher ridge. And the hatred that flowed from the black riders was chilling.

- - - - - - - - - -

Reyhan felt sick to his stomach and leaned his head against the building, closing his eyes as chills wracked his body. He knew Muhjah-Aji stood in front of him, and could almost feel her growing concern at his rapidly deteriorating condition. He had made a mistake in leaving his pallet, compounded by trying to do too much too soon. He had managed to bathe and change into a clean set of clothes but nothing could dispel the growing ache in his arm…or the sense of apprehension that settled like a weight around his shoulders.

His hand was numb and he no longer felt his fingers; all sensation was lost in the waves of agony that raced up and down the appendage. Fear made him surly and irrational and despite the fear of collapse, he had made Muhjah-Aji take him farther away from the healers' building than he had originally intended.

"You are pushing yourself too much," Muhjah-Aji sighed and gently gathered the blanket around Reyhan's shoulder. Her dark gaze swept over his face, and her heart did a strange twist within her chest when she saw his suffering.

Impulsively she reached up and smoothed the still damp hair from his face…

Reyhan's eyes opened at her touch and they stared at one another for a few moments before he caved into his desire. Slowly, he lowered his head and tenderly brushed his mouth across her lips, pleased and surprised that she had met him halfway.

He cupped her face with one hand, his fingers splayed across her cheek as their mouths continued exploring, testing and tasting one another. She was as sweet as he knew she would be and intoxicating. He caught her sigh and would have deepened the kiss but the intense pain in his shoulder effectively dashed the glowing embers of passion. With a tortured groan, he pulled away and clenched his jaw as he rode out the agony as best he could.

Temporary relief came in the form of Muhjah-Aji's fingers as they lightly danced across his face, tracing his tattoos and finally caressing his mouth. She explored the soft whiskers that covered his jaw line as they stared at one another for a few moments.

"I need food." Reyhan's sullen statement broke the spell of enchantment that had ensnared them both, and he pushed away Muhjah-Aji's hands. "Walk me to the nearest dining hall."

"There's that camel again," Muhjah-Aji muttered as she looped his good arm over her shoulder and pulled away from the building. She slowed her movements when she felt him falter and took a deep breath for courage, knowing in the hours to come he would hate her for what must be done.

- - - - - - - - - -

Reyhan dropped the spoon into the half eaten bowl of broth and shoved it away, surrendering to the persistent pain in his shoulder. He hung his head as his hand came up to message the ache that no amount of hot water, food, or tender companionship that Muhjah-Aji provided could alleviate.

"I must apologize," he said softly, unable to meet her knowing gaze as he finally gave his confession. "You have been right all along; I should have stayed on my pallet. I am trying to accomplish too much."

Muhjah-Aji braced herself against the sweeping sorrow that ravaged her troubled heart and realized that the time was fast approaching for her to finally carry out the orders from her queen. She repressed any love or compassion she felt for Reyhan and pulled the vial from her sleeve, uncorking it. She poured the entire contents into a cup of strong mint tea, knowing the flavor would mask the taste of the potion and handed it to him. "Would you like to know why your shoulder hurts so much?" she coldly asked.

Reyhan's head snapped up at the sudden change in Muhjah-Aji's demeanor but he wrongly assumed that it had to do with his ill-fated excursion. He took the cup and drank the contents in one swallow, his eyes never leaving her face. He grimaced at the unfamiliar aftertaste. "Aiwa, please tell me since you seem to know so much," he said dejectedly. "Tell me what is wrong with my shoulder."

Muhjah-Aji stared at the empty cup, willing herself to remain detached and unaffected. "It is common practice among the Rwalla-Hunud to torture their prisoners in order to gain a confession and you were no different. In fact, I know that the priestess took great delight in testing your strength and endurance, especially after a beating. When you were unconscious they inserted three scarab larvae, almost ready to emerge, into the wound. Any exertion by you or sudden impact," her hand shot out and hit Reyhan's shoulder, "will result in them hatching and slowly, methodically eating you from the inside out."

Agony unlike Reyhan had ever experienced before in his life exploded within him and his body jerked away from the table. He fell off the chair and landed hard on the floor, his hand clutching his shoulder as he battled through the white-hot spears of pain that knifed through him. Disbelief settled over him like a thick blanket and he fought to remain consciousness, holding back the bile that surged up in his throat. Drawing in ragged breaths of air, he rolled to his knees and looked up to meet Muhjah-Aji's emotionless stare.

"H-how do you know…this?" he asked hoarsely.

Muhjah-Aji steeled herself against the hurt she saw in Reyhan's eyes and felt no joy in what she was about to do. To feel nothing at all was better than to care and if she cared then she could never carry out her orders. She knelt down next to Reyhan's ear. "Because I am Rwalla-Hunud, sent here by my queen to capture you."

Reyhan slowly shook his head, refusing to believe that everything about Muhjah-Aji was a lie. She was the enemy, and memories of his imprisonment came back to viciously haunt him; he tried to scramble away from her but it was too late. His weakened body was unable to comply and her fist struck his shoulder again, sending him crumpling to the floor.

"In the name of Queen Markunda-Tagwizult, I hereby capture you for my people," Muhjah-Aji's voice droned on as she searched the empty dining hall for what she needed to transport Reyhan back to her tribe. She quickly gathered several bags of garbage from the day's previous meals and dumped them into a large burlap bag. "I do this in the name of Damya-Ultafa…"

"La," Reyhan groaned and started to crawl across the floor, the doorway to freedom lying just a few feet away. He shook his head to clear it, alarmed at the strange warmth that was slowly seeping through his body.

"I do this in the name of Tabari-Yervant, the young man you killed. I am bringing his murderer to justice." Muhjah-Aji found some ties and shoved them into her pocket, turning around to find that Reyhan was crawling towards the door. She cursed and ran after him, her hands gripping his legs as they struggled with one another.

"I did…not kill Tabari," Reyhan panted as he fought with all of his rapidly waning strength. "You must…believe me. He was…my…friend!"

Muhjah-Aji clawed her way up Reyhan's writhing body and punched his shoulder, inwardly cringing from his anguished cry.

Reyhan retaliated and swung his fist, striking Muhjah-Aji hard across the face sending her sprawling from him. He kicked away from her and rolled over, stubbornly clawing his way across the floor in one last frantic bid to get outside.

Muhjah-Aji wiped the blood from her mouth and grabbed Reyhan's legs, throwing herself across his body. She pummeled his wound, and managed to duck beneath one blow but was caught on the backswing. Her head rocked back from the impact and tears pooled in her eyes when she realized that Reyhan was desperately fighting for his life.

Suddenly she felt enraged at the unfairness of her duty colliding with her love for the warrior and her hands curled into tight fists. She wished with all her heart that Reyhan would have simply and peaceably caved into the drug and she blindly punched his shoulder as his actions grew weaker and weaker.

Muhjah-Aji slumped over Reyhan's still body and covered her mouth, suppressing the heart wrenching sobs that welled up in her throat. She reached down to tenderly touch his pale face, her fingertips skimming over the red stain blossoming on his shoulder. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and mingled with the blood from one corner of her mouth.

"Oh Reyhan," she said softly, her heart shattering into a million pieces. She had to take several precious minutes to compose herself, and then stiffly got up from his body, setting into motion the last of her plans.

She hurried around the dining hall, cleaning up any incriminating evidence and casting anxious glances at Reyhan who hadn't moved since he had passed out. She wiped away all traces of the potion and destroyed the bottle along with the uneaten food, aware that the wagon would soon arrive.

Muhjah-Aji dreaded the last part of her plans but performed it in the name of duty. She bent over Reyhan's body and tied his hands and legs, this last part of the preparation causing fresh tears to stream down her face. She paused before she covered his mouth with a gag, much like the one he had been wearing when he first arrived at the citadel, and stroked his face. She bent over him, her mouth hovering above his lips and she closed her eyes, remembering when he had kissed her not so long ago. That memory would be kept safely tucked away in her heart for when her deeds would disturb her dreams and sleep would be evasive.

She jumped up and dragged the burlap bag over his body and used almost all of her strength pushing and shoving everything into place. When Reyhan was sufficiently covered in refuse, she sealed the bag without a second glance at his face and stood up. It was then that she noticed her hands were shaking.

A low and familiar whistle came from the back of the hall and moments later, the accomplice to her plans appeared in the doorway. The wagon for the trash had arrived and quickly, the large cumbersome bag was dumped into the back along with the rest of the rubbish.

Muhjah-Aji covered her head with a dark veil and climbed into the seat next to the driver and as they slowly drove through the streets of the city, she noticed that no one gave them a second glance. She held her breath as they approached the gates and didn't release it until they had passed through and were out in the open desert.

Miles away from the citadel, she heard the faint call of her people and shaded her eyes, noticing the riders atop a ridge in the distance. The war spears spiked up into the brilliant robin's egg blue of the sky as they celebrated her victory but Muhjah-Aji felt nothing at all.

No elation.

No happiness.

She had done what had been assigned for her to do – she had obeyed her warrior creed and had captured the murderer of a chieftess' son, thereby pleasing her queen. Accolades and honors would be bestowed upon her for the successful conclusion of her hunt and a feast would be held tonight as the Hunud gathered in celebration. After the festivities, as the special event of the night, Reyhan would be executed before them all and his blood offered to their pagan gods.

Muhjah-Aji felt numb inside and her stomach rolled from the idea of Reyhan dying, his assertion of innocence tormented her along with images of his gray eyes…his expressive beautiful eyes.

_"You like me," _his voice whispered in her mind but Muhjah-Aji remained silent as her heart cried out in anguish from her treachery.

- - - - - - - - - -

_A/N – As always I truly appreciate the reviews and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.__ I hope I continue to keep you entertained as this story continues to unfold and the rollercoaster ride gets a bit bumpier._

_Before I move to the shout-outs, I did want to clarify one thing that Nakhit brought up in her review. First I appreciate that any reader is paying that much attention to my story and all of your comments, as I've said before, often inspire the next chapter or so._

_In reply to her question about "_how can Ardeth be the Medjai's king?" – _I guess the best way to explain my reference is to state that I've been influenced by Oded's appearance on the MTV Movie Awards almost two years ago, when TMR first came out. He helped the hosts of the show do a spoof of TMR; Rob Schneider played Immy and it was quite funny but one of his lines was something to the effect of, "I am their king." That always stayed with me for some reason and as time passed, I envisioned Ardeth being just that – the handsome ruler of the Medjai people who lived in a castle or citadel [not unlike the city of __Gondor__ in ROTK]. The city is located in the center or the hub of a wheel, and is surrounded by the Twelve Tribes. My use of the word "king" instead of sheikh or pasha was to do just that, my friends, convey that Ardeth is indeed the leader of his people. I honestly never thought about it until Nakhti brought it up and I'm pleased she did so. I like to make my stories as believable as possible for the reader and if sheikh, pasha or chieftain helps the reader imagine Ardeth as I've written him, then I have no problem changing my style. [smiles] _

_Now for the shout-outs: _

**_Ladybug – _**_writing Nabil's resignation was hard to do but writing this last chapter was even harder. Save __Jericho__ and Dharr? Erm, I'm trying. [eg]_

**_Nakhti_****_ - _**_to sungenes gar deinon'. LOL Did I write the correctly and yes, Nabil will ultimately do whatever is necessary to save Reyhan, the price to pay higher than you can imagine. What I'm trying to do is portray Nabil's reluctance to accept Reyhan at first because his arrival fulfills one of Nabil's heartfelt desires – to no longer be alone in the world. There may seem to be a lot of loose ends with Jericho et al in danger but my friend, you ain't seen nothing yet. Thanks for letting me know about the status of HN – here's hoping you can update soon. _

**_SerenaFehr_****_ – _**_one of these days I'll tell the story of how __Jericho__ saved Bahir and how their friendship blossomed. Muhjah will do what is necessary but in the end, will she listen to her heart or honor her oath as a Hunud? Berin and Drevick friends, you ask? You never know. Thanks for reading. _

**_Dawn – _**_I felt bad for both Ardeth and Nabil but honestly, more for Ardeth. He has to walk that fine line between chieftain, warrior and friend. He won't always like what he has to do but as I've said, it's always for the greater good. Glad you liked my portrayal of him. Dharr will do what he can to save Jericho, they are friends and as you know, __Jericho__ thinks of Dharr as his son. We'll see in the following parts how that evolves and changes. Did you update "Salvation" yet? Heh heh _

**_Dreamy – _**_thanks for the review and poor Reyhan indeed. But honestly, don't you feel a little bad for Muhjah? ****_

****

**_The kid mdd – _**_Dharr__ in the Big Boys club for his courage?__ LOL Sure and he's blushing with pleasure from your comments. I made him strong and Bahir faithful to __Jericho__ because it just seemed right. Silly, aren't I? ;-) In answer to your question about the spy, sadly I just answered it with this part, didn't I? Thanks for reading!_

_Keep those belts fastened and hold on…there's more to come. ;-) _

_ ****_


	14. Part XIII

Part XIII  
  
Suleyman-Tansu jabbed the tip of her spear deep into the earth and leaned back in the saddle, inordinately pleased that all was going according to plan. She waited for the messengers to report regarding the three different patrols that were in the desert, one of which she knew had engaged the Medjai.  
  
Confident that success would be theirs, she anticipated sending a message to her queen very soon informing her that the latest phase of their pending domination of the desert was almost complete.  
  
Victory would soon be in their grasp.  
  
"Divide and conquer, scatter and confuse," she mused. "In the end the Medjai will be our slaves."  
  
Her sister warriors positioned around her nodded and sighed their agreement as one, their soulless eyes gleaming from battle lust.  
  
Sensing its rider's mood, Suleyman-Tansu's horse bobbed its head as great bursts of air blasted from its nostrils. The black horse eagerly pawed the ground in anticipation of the coming battles, its withers trembling. The horse danced on its back legs, pulling at the bit but Suleyman-Tansu controlled the animal with ease. She was tempted to cave into impetuous desire and give her steed free rein but a messenger arrived and she eagerly waited for the news.  
  
Minutes later, she pulled her spear from the sand and jabbed it into the air. "We have the murderer," she shouted and the battle cries of her sister warriors shattered the peaceful afternoon into fragments. "The Medjai shall die this night!"  
  
War yells and whoops rolled over the desert and the riders pounded the bases of their spears in unison in anticipation of the coming night.  
  
Minutes later another group of Hunud joined Suleyman-Tansu's group and she wheeled her horse around to greet the captain of the squad. "What news do you bring, my sister? Has the commander been taken prisoner or better yet, is he dead?"  
  
Guraya-Hennu pulled her lathered mount to an abrupt stop and averted her eyes, uncertain how to explain that she had failed. She took a deep breath, very aware that she was being closely scrutinized, and quickly related the details of the battle.  
  
Suleyman-Tansu brought the tip of her spear near her knee and regarded the captain with narrowed eyes. "You are uncertain if the commander still lives but you say his second in command has been killed?"  
  
Guraya-Hennu warily noted the action as she signaled for another warrior to come forth. "Dasin-Takama saw the commander awake and talking to his men. She also reports that the second in command has been mortally wounded but...we do not know if he still lives or not. The Medjai are in league with the Tuareg and we were caught unprepared."  
  
Suleyman-Tansu's dark gaze slashed to Dasin-Takama. "Are you saying you failed in killing this commander's subordinate?" she asked in a deceptively soft tone of voice.  
  
Dasin-Takama bravely faced her superior. "He showed great courage in the face of death and I hesitated to strike the final blow. Then his rescuers arrived and we thought it best to flee rather and report..."  
  
Whispered exclamations of disbelief swept over the Hunud but Suleyman-Tansu silenced them with an arrogant wave of her hand. She turned back to Dasin- Takama. "Have you forgotten your oath?"  
  
"No mercy...no mercy...no mercy" the soft whispers turned into a low chant that grew and swelled in volume with each passing moment. The code of conduct amongst the bloodthirsty Rwalla-Hunud did not tolerate compassion or admiration of bravery; any deviation was not acceptable.  
  
Dasin-Takama met her superior's cold gaze with false bravado. "I have not forgotten."  
  
Suddenly Suleyman-Tansu hurled her spear and it impaled Dasin-Takama through the chest, toppling the rider from her horse. She landed on the ground and one hand slid down the bloody shaft of the spear as a soft sigh escaped from her lips. Moments later her sightless eyes stared up and beyond as wild cheering erupted. Driven mad by blood lust, they cruelly celebrated the death of one of their own as they hammered their spears against the earth. It sounded like muffled thunder.  
  
As the cheers died down, Guraya-Hennu walked her horse over to the dead woman and turned back to her captain, a slight frown on her face. "Dasin- Takama was a good warrior. In the coming battle that we will wage, we could have used her skill and expertise."  
  
A cruel smiled carved Suleyman-Tansu's lips. She nudged her horse over to the body and yanked her spear out as flecks of blood marred the once pristine sand. "Are you questioning my actions?" she asked softly.  
  
"No," Guraya-Hennu bowed her head in what she hoped would be interpreted as submission.  
  
Suleyman-Tansu was pleased by the other woman's actions and in her boldness, a plan formulated in her mind. "Come my sisters, join me in the hunt and by nightfall we shall feast on the hearts of our dead enemies. This group of Medjai is crippled, and we can easily catch up to them and destroy them. We shall send their rotting corpses back to the infamous Chieftain Bay as a token of our gratitude. After all, he has so graciously provided us with a commander and sub-commander as trophies for our queen."  
  
The Hunud warriors roared in approval and as one, their horses surged forward, flooding across the desert plains like a black wave of evil. They headed towards the Tuareg encampment, and none spared a glance back at the body of the fallen Dasin-Takama except for Guraya-Hennu.

----------

"Where is Reyhan?" Nabil asked Jarille as he stood at the foot of the empty pallet. A strange feeling warned him that something was wrong, fueling his concern and making him even more anxious to see his brother. He tried to override his feelings of foreboding but found it only made him more impatient.  
  
"Reyhan was taken by Muhjah-Aji for a walk several hours ago," Jarille replied. "I had asked Reyhan to see me once they returned so I could examine his shoulder wound. It is not healing properly and I fear I may have to resort to more aggressive measures in his treatment."  
  
"Then why did you let them go?" Nabil demanded and shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. "Did you even think to send someone out to look for them?"  
  
Jarille bristled slightly at the subtle insinuation in Nabil's tone of voice. "Your brother was quite adamant in his desire for exercise, and I saw no harm in granting his request. Muhjah-Aji is a trusted aide and will bring Reyhan back in a timely manner."  
  
_"But what do we know of this woman, Muhjah-Aji, who tends to him?"  
_  
"Timely manner?" Nabil repeated incredulously as the panic that had seized his heart continued to grow. Reyhan had been missing for hours...very little was known about his caregiver...and the Hunud waited like vultures outside the city, circling over their prey.  
  
"Pardon the intrusion, Jarille but there is a vial missing from shelves," a helper spoke up. "We did an inventory as you had suggested and discovered it was gone."  
  
Jarille thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "Now that is indeed strange, for I know all the vials were accounted for prior to Muhjah-Aji..."  
  
Nabil didn't want to hear the rest of Jarille's ruminations, and ran from the building as if a thousand mummies were chasing him. He was afraid to confirm the dread that spiraled through him, unwilling to acknowledge the horrifying conclusion that Reyhan was missing.

----------  
  
It was easy enough for Muhjah-Aji to ignore the pastel beauty of the evening sky as the wagon continued its westward trek towards the Hunud encampment. It was simple to avert her eyes and miss seeing the brilliant colors of orange, pink, blue and haunting gray as she continued to convince herself that she had done well in performing her task.  
  
She had little difficulty in changing into her armor during the ride, and seeing the crimson stain of the red hand on the breastplate with its diagonal slash of gold through the middle reminded her of her skill as an assassin. By midnight, when the moon was at its fullest, two more slashes would be added, signifying her success.  
  
So why did this particular assignment bother her? She had grown used to her queen's mercurial mood swings, and never questioned the motive behind the release of the Medjai only to capture him again. Markunda-Tagwizult loved to exercise her power as a constant reminder to those beneath her, and took great delight in sending out her leagues of assassins to do her bidding.  
  
Why did her gaze wander back to stare at the motionless burlap sack as memories of the time spent with the warrior encased therein teased her with a warmth that flooded her troubled heart?  
  
"It does not matter," Muhjah-Aji muttered and shifted in the seat, folding her arms across her chest.  
  
"You are silent this evening. Does your success not please you?" Igmi Ben- Bella casually remarked and glanced speculatively at Muhjah-Aji. He tightened his grip on the reins as the wagon traveled over a small patch of rocky terrain, contemplating his years of service to the Rwalla-Hunud.  
  
It seemed a shame that the gold coin, paid to him for his services, spent just as easily as if it came from another client. If not for his responsibilities as his family's provider, and his fatherly affection for Muhjah-Aji, he would never approach the Hunud for work again.  
  
"Just drive the wagon and leave me to my thoughts," Muhjah-Aji snapped.  
  
Igmi was undaunted by Muhjah-Aji's surliness and continued. "You know what will happen to him once we arrive? They will give him to the priestesses who will certainly torture him first, aggravating his wound and undoubtedly adding new ones. And when the moon is at its fullest, the queen will call upon you to slit his throat and offer his blood to the gods. You should be honored to have been chosen to perform this ritual."  
  
"I already know what will happen, I have seen this performed before," Muhjah-Aji informed him, inwardly horrified as the images of Reyhan dying came to mind. "Nothing is different."  
  
"Everything is different," Igmi argued, aware of Muhjah-Aji's stay in the Medjai city. "With this assignment you came to know your prey, he has a name, he is a person with a life and has honor as a warrior. I wonder how this additional knowledge will affect the steadiness of your hand tonight."  
  
"I am bringing a killer to justice, as dictated by my queen. My hand will not waver nor will I falter in my duty so please end this absurd conversation, and just drive the wagon." Muhjah-Aji thought it strange that she didn't sound very unconvincing.  
  
"As you wish," Igmi conceded with a sigh. Impulsively he decided to linger at the Hunud encampment tonight, giving into the nagging suspicion that Muhjah-Aji was going to need him.

----------  
  
Talib, Zaki, Solman and Uthmann-Dunoud raced through the gleaming hallways of the castle in search of Ardeth, determined to be granted an audience with him despite the late hour.  
  
Abdul-Hafiz tried to stop the warriors when they appeared outside of Ardeth's private suite but no amount of cajoling or coaxing could dissuade them. "At least have the decency to change your robes before you present yourselves to your chieftain," he pleaded. His nose wrinkled in distaste when he caught the pungent aroma of the strange young man standing near Talib.  
  
"Time is our enemy at the moment, Counselor, and we must speak to Ardeth at once. The news we bring could end this war," Talib stated.  
  
"Nabil will no longer be alone, and his brother would be free." Solman interjected, certain that his opinion would sway Abdul-Hafiz into helping them.  
  
"Aiwa but..." Abdul-Hafiz took a step away from the stranger and curbed the desire to hide his face in the sleeve of his robe. "Ardeth has left explicit orders not to be disturbed..."  
  
The double doors to the suite suddenly swung open with such force that they bounced against the wall. Ardeth stood in the threshold, dressed in his warrior attire and looking like the dark angel of death. The expression on his face gave little indication to his mood but his eyes blazed with the fires of anger and frustration; the disagreement with Nabil was still fresh in his mind.  
  
"I no longer wish to rest but am most anxious to hear what Talib has to say," he almost growled and stood to one side, gesturing for the warriors to enter his chambers.

----------  
  
_A/N – Thanks for the reviews but if you think some warriors are safe...guess again. I told you the ride would get bumpy. [eg] I won't give away too much but after reading this, does anyone want to see Suleyman-Tansu get her comeuppance? ;-)  
_  
_Shout-outs:  
  
**Karri** – Painful and rude but I thank ye for the compliment. Thanks for reading and reviewing. [big smile]  
  
**Dawn369** – Jericho is weak indeed but hopefully he'll get some medical treatment soon. As for Muhjah, I believe her love for Reyhan will eventually make her come to her senses...I hope. Thanks for reading!  
  
**SerenaFehr** – When Reyhan wakes up, will his hatred for Muhjah outweigh his love for her? Reyhan is a lot like Nabi – they remember those that hurt them for a very long time. I guess we'll have to see...  
  
**TheDreamyOne** – Thanks for the review and judging by the comments, Muhjah's betrayal doesn't sit well with everyone. Nabil will do anything to save Reyhan and what he'll do could be considered suicidal.  
  
**The Kidd Mdd** – For you to feel that strongly about Muhjah...I thank you for the kind words. I'm glad she was able to get under your nails, thus the chipped polish. LOL Dharr's fate hangs in the balance, and as for the picture...well I wish I could find one that fits him. I picture him to be long and lean, with this long curly hair [that he hates by the way and wishes he had straight hair. ;-)] and sherry colored eyes. Dharr's a sweety so don't worry about his fate...oh and a good thing you love rollercoaster rides. Ha!  
  
**Desperate**- Ahhhh, I hope you know I was joking around in my response to your review. But I am quite serious about you contacting me...I've often said that my inspiration comes from reviews or emails. Perhaps my "The Other Side" muse would like to hear some of your idea's. ;-)  
  
**LadyBug1** – Don't dance too much, you know me, I have my evil reputation to live up to. And at this point, no one likes Muhjah-Aji...lol! Thanks for reading. _


	15. Part XV

_Part XV  
_  
A lone rider that had been following the Medjai since they had left the village raced across the desert with nothing more to guide him than the bright moonlight and the hope that Allah was guiding him towards the correct destination.  
  
He was a young boy of twelve summers and he had heard everything the Rwalla- Hunud had spoken of hours before in the old woman's home. His loyalty was to the Tuareg and he did what they paid him to do quite well – gather information and report back to his leader.  
  
An hour later he almost shouted with joy when he found the temporary encampment and jumped off his horse before it could stop. He ran through the maze of campfires and tents until he found Drevick, and breathlessly informed him of the Hunud witness.   
  
Drevick smiled his thanks to the boy and affectionately ruffled his hair, ordering him to go rest and get something to eat. He turned back to find Yousef and Berin staring at him expectantly and he almost laughed from their impatient expressions.  
  
"What did the boy say?" Yousef asked.  
  
"Is the Tuareg reconsidering the truce or do you doubt your actions?" Berin casually asked. He had been broodingly staring into the fire as concern for Jericho and the other wounded plagued his heart and mind.  
  
Without waiting for Drevick's reply, Berin stood up, and abruptly left the two young Tuareg; he cared not if his actions were deemed as rude. He needed to check on his wounded brethren.  
  
"You need to have more faith in me, Medjai," Drevick sighed as he watched Berin kneel by Jericho's side, the customary scowl settling on his face as he checked the commander's bandages. "I have pledged my cooperation and my men; I will not go back on my word."  
  
Yousef grunted. "A wonderful sentiment, my friend, but alas, he cannot hear you. Or should I amend that and state that he will never hear you."  
  
"It doesn't matter. I know Berin will honor the temporary alliance between our people but his first priority will always be his fellow warriors. Perhaps my decision to stay here rather than ride to the citadel or the Tuareg village seeking medical treatment was not the best decision." Drevick grimaced at the lack of confidence he heard in his own voice and averted his gaze, ashamed that his leadership skills seemed inadequate.  
  
Yousef shook his head in amazement and reached out, punching Drevick's shoulder as if he could knock some sense into his friend. "Do you hear yourself?" he asked. "Three warriors have returned to the citadel and they've brought with them a witness that exonerates Reyhan from the charge of murder. Do you realize what the Hunud will do if they find out about this witness?'  
  
Unaware of Berin intently observing them, Drevick nodded his head. "They will retaliate and hunt us down without pity or mercy. We would not make it beyond the next ridge or live to see the next sunrise. Maybe our wisest course of action was to stay here for now."  
  
"Why would the Hunud react this way to a witness whose testimony could end the war?" Berin called out.  
  
Drevick stood up and grabbed the food and water pouches that Yousef knowingly handed him. He walked over to the sub-commander and had to laugh at the pitiful offering he was making to the warrior, hoping it would pacify him. And earn his trust.  
  
"Tabari-Yervant once told me that the Hunud despise traitors. And I believe that their queen would hate the missed opportunity to become the undisputed ruler of the Sahara if Reyhan's innocence is confirmed." Drevick bent down next to Berin and dropped the pouches on the ground, noticing that Jericho's sable colored gaze was too bright from an encroaching fever. "If Reyhan goes free then the Tuareg and Medjai would no longer be occupied, and her plans would be ruined."  
  
Berin picked up the water pouch and tried to coax Jericho to take a few sips but the elder warrior was too exhausted. He waved off the water and turned his head, searching for Dharr and Emir. "Tend to those who...are more critical than I," he whispered and closed his eyes.  
  
Berin acquiesced to Jericho's wish and stood up, his gaze meeting Drevick's. He felt a pang of compassion for the young leader and despite his better judgment found himself liking him. "I believe that your choice in location for the camp is a good one, young Tuareg," he said. "But we cannot stay long. You should send the boy to the citadel with a message for Ardeth informing him of the latest developments. He can send out reinforcements who will aid us in the journey back."  
  
"Agreed," Drevick sighed.  
  
"I concur – this location is good since we are protected on three sides by the surrounding hills and rock formations." Yousef had to point out the strategic advantages. "It will provide us with adequate concealment from the black riders for now."  
  
Berin chose not to comment on Yousef's observation, but considered that if the Hunud could attack the citadel with ease, then a few groupings of boulders would hardly be a hindrance.

----------  
  
"Tell me you're saddling your horse because you desire a ride through the city, and I will go away a happy man."  
  
Kedar leaned against the doorframe of the stall and crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching Nabil adjust the stirrups. As soon as Ardeth had demanded to be left alone with his thoughts, Kedar immediately began searching for his friend. He retraced the commander's path from the healers' building, to his quarters, the dining hall and finally to the stables, his fears coming to fruition as he watched Nabil prepare to leave.  
  
"I am going for a ride. Now go away and be happy," Nabil muttered and pulled the cinches tighter on the saddle.  
  
"I cannot do that," Kedar sighed and walked over to Nabil's side, resting one hand on the horse's withers. "We need to talk about your choices as of late, especially the last two; they are ill conceived at best. Tell me what is going on, ya sahib."  
  
Nabil remained stubbornly silent and ignored Kedar's presence as he modified the horse's halter and bit. It was better to pretend ignorance than to confide that his search for Reyhan had concluded with the startling revelation that Muhjah-Aji had kidnapped him.  
  
Through eye-witness accounts he had learned that she had lured him to the dining hall where she worked, and once there he had scoured the eating area for any clues as to what might have happened. Granted the floors and counters had been recently cleaned but nothing had been done to remove the droplets of blood that Nabil found on the floor. Combined with another worker's claim that they heard the sounds of fighting coming from within the building, and then saw Muhjah-Aji exit several minutes later dragging a large burlap bag intensified Nabil's fear.  
  
Lastly, he paid a visit to the captain of the guards to check on the daily log of those who passed through the gates. His suspicions were confirmed when the record showed Muhjah-Aji as the passenger of a wagon carrying refuse and it had been noted that it was traveling north.  
  
Away from where the garbage was generally disposed of...  
  
"Do not do this, Nabil," Kedar pleaded and gripped Nabil's shoulder, turning him around so he faced him. "Do not shut me out; I am only trying to help. What in the name of Allah is going on? Instinct tells me that your departure is not prompted by your resignation but something else."  
  
"Stay out of this, Kedar. I have no desire to have you included in the charges that Ardeth will bring against me once he finds out what I plan to do," Nabil said.  
  
"Exactly what do you plan to do?"  
  
"What an older brother should do for his younger siblings," was the cryptic reply.  
  
"So help me I will beat a confession out of you, if I have to, in order to understand the foolish thoughts buzzing around in your head," Kedar growled. He gripped Nabil's shoulder as the warrior tried to walk past him and a subtle challenge flared up between them.  
  
Eyes as black as midnight glared into eyes colored like the sky before a storm; the silent standoff between Nabil and Kedar ebbed and flowed as each struggled to control their emotions. Nabil attempted to skirt around Kedar but he wouldn't let him, not until Nabil clarified his actions.  
  
Desperate to break through the stubborn shield that Nabil had erected Kedar released his shoulder, but tried one last time. "You are my friend, a brother, and fellow warrior. We have gone through much together during our service in the warrior sect and I have not regretted one moment, good or bad. If I let you leave I have not only failed in honoring my oath, but I have failed our friendship as well. The bitter taste of failure pales in comparison to a future without you as my friend."  
  
Nabil refused to meet Kedar's gaze and turned back to the horse, burrowing his hands into its mane as the words unexpectedly spilled from his lips. The flood of information rushed forward like a tidal wave and he advised Kedar of everything, leaving out no detail. Almost finished with his dissertation, Nabil turned and faced Kedar, quietly beseeching his friend for understanding.  
  
"I was an only child, and for most of my life I relied on one person for survival – myself. Reyhan's existence certainly came as a surprise, and I will admit it was hard to accept him at first. But my conscience will not allow me to rest until he is safely returned to the citadel. If he were to die at the hands of the Hunud, my heart would never know a moment's peace. You, Berin, and the others have become my surrogate family but Reyhan is blood of my blood. I have to save him. Do you understand?"  
  
Kedar nodded his head. "The ties that bind brothers together may weaken and strengthen, but in the end they are still brothers. You will always do what you believe is right, even at the risk of your own life. But what proof do you have of Muhjah-Aji's betrayal? You know Ardeth will need sound evidence before he agrees to anything."  
  
"I am not asking Ardeth for help," Nabil replied.  
  
"You should, ya mu'anid sahib," Ardeth said as he appeared in the stall's doorway. Talib, Zaki, Solman, Haytham and Uthmann-Dunoud materialized by his side and then watched as he walked over to Nabil. "You will need all the help you can get if you want to save Reyhan."

----------  
  
Nabil placed a foot in the stirrup and climbed up into the saddle, gathering the reins in one hand as his gaze swept over those assembled in the barn. He felt his heart constrict with the profound appreciation for those who volunteered to come with him in the daring rescue.  
  
_"We know we have given you much to comprehend, ya sahib, but this is madness," Zaki had stated. "To ride into the Rwalla-Hunud stronghold and demand Reyhan back is ludicrous. They will kill you before you pull your weapon free."  
_  
Nabil watched as Haytham guided his horse over to Solman and gave the young warrior instructions on how to use his scimitar against the Hunud. The two warriors had become friends over the past few days and it was apparent that Solman was blossoming under Haytham's brotherly guidance.  
  
_"He is of my blood and my conscience will not let me rest knowing that he will be tortured and killed for a crime he did not commit," Nabil had argued.  
_  
Zaki and Talib chose to accompany Uthmann-Dunoud and waited with him near the barn doors, quietly talking amongst themselves as they reviewed the plan that had been quickly conceived. Nabil felt humbled by their support and hoped that their choice in helping him wouldn't cost them their lives as they honored the warrior oath.  
  
_"Let me ride with you, Commander, for I am the only solution that is needed," Uthmann-Dunoud surprised everyone by speaking up. "My word alone will nullify the blood feud and clear your brother of all charges. The Hunud will be incensed by the discovery of the treachery within their ranks; they should allow the both of you to escape unharmed. The war will end since my people will be busy purging themselves of the deceit that has been festering within."  
_  
Despite Nabil's strenuous objections, Ardeth and Kedar were also riding with the group and would bring up the rear. Nabil overheard Kedar advising Ardeth that when he fought a Hunud to seek the gaps in the body armor, where the blade can pierce soft flesh. He frowned when he realized that a Hunud spear could just as easily stab through thin black robes, quickly ending the life of a friend and brother.  
  
Nabil gathered the incredible internal strength that had sustained him through the hard lonely years of his childhood, vowing that they would all triumphantly return to the city. He had no wish to think of the alternative...  
  
...no desire to think of a life without them.  
  
_"Are you suggesting that I ride into the heart of the Hunud encampment, escorted by only a few warriors, and demand that they release Reyhan?" Nabil asked.  
_  
Nabil reached down into his robes and touched the handle of the dagger he still wanted to present to Reyhan. Hope bloomed within his heart, fragile and fledgling, and he felt it soar as it tested its wings. He was undertaking a dangerous mission but he believed that the outcome was well worth risking his life. He had to believe that he would survive the encounter...  
  
_Uthmann-Dunoud nodded his head. "Precisely."  
_  
...and ultimately have what he always dreamed about, never to be alone again.  
  
Nabil had to believe for he had nothing else.  
  
His musings were interrupted when he looked up and saw that Ardeth's horse was next to him. The two warriors looked at one another but remained silent, their recent disagreement acting as a barrier. Uncomfortable with the rift between them, but uncertain how he could mend it, Nabil pulled on the reins. He looked over when Ardeth touched his arm.  
  
"I pray that this informant's plan works, or at least you could humor me and say that it will," Ardeth said with a faint smile.  
  
"Why are you doing this? There is no need to risk your life; you could stay in the city where it is safe." Nabil changed the subject, trying to understand the motive behind Ardeth's actions; was he acting as a leader or as a friend?  
  
A grim smile flashed across Ardeth's face; his gaze swept over the warriors gathered before resting on Nabil. "You asked me what I would do if Kedar's life was at stake rather than Reyhan's; I am answering. I am not acting as your chieftain this night, but as your friend. Do you think I would let you journey into the Rwalla-Hunud stronghold, into the heart of evil, and not be at your side? To ride into battle with you is an honor."  
  
"We may not survive this night," Nabil warned, momentarily taken aback by Ardeth's words.  
  
"You would die for me, would you not?" Ardeth asked softly, the death of any warrior unsettling but more so if it were Kedar, Nabil, Jericho, Berin or any of those closest to him.  
  
Nabil blinked in surprise at the question; his allegiance to Ardeth was never in question. "You are my chieftain, and aiwa, I would gladly sacrifice myself so that you may live."  
  
"Spoken like a warrior, although you have resigned your commission. I know you will always honor your oath, Nabil, and that is just one of the many qualities that I admire about you." Ardeth reached into one of his pouches and held out the discarded commander's insignia. "Now I must ask something of you – do I hold onto this and give it back once we return? Or do I dispose of it and have a new one presented to Berin?"  
  
Nabil stared at the emblem, a sign of his life's accomplishments and career within the warrior sect. The day he was promoted was one that he would always remember but nestled within the almost forgotten memories was Ardeth's encouragement. His advice. And his friendship. Priceless gifts coming at a time when Nabil had needed them the most; to surrender it was far more difficult than he could ever imagine.  
  
"Perhaps you should hold onto it for now," Nabil said softly as he reached over and closed Ardeth's hand. "I will want it once we return."  
  
Ardeth smiled as he placed his other hand on Nabil's and the two men shook hands; the rift between them closed. It changed into the traditional warrior handshake and as the foundation of their friendship continued to heal, the others gathered around them.  
  
Kedar pulled his scimitar free and bellowed his battle cry, the others following suit. The barn's interior rang with the sound and fury of the six Medjai.  
  
Uthmann-Dunoud seemed unaffected by the display. Yet he was silently praying that he would live to see a new day.

----------  
  
_A/N – Ya know, I just realized what fun it's has been writing this...[eg] As always I have to thank you for your reviews. They certainly do brighten my day and y'all ask good questions and make great observations. Don't forget, if you're curious about what my warriors look like, my website has four pages dedicated to them, with bio's and pictures. ;-)  
  
To the shoutouts:  
  
**Dawn369** – Muhjah is suffering from more than just pangs of guilt; one has to wonder if she'll allow the only man who's touched her heart to be sacrificed? As you've just read, Ardeth, Nabil, Kedar et al are about to embark on an adventure of a lifetime; the rift in their friendship mended. Let's hope it withstands what happens in the next few parts. ;-)  
  
**Dreamy** – I loosely based my Hunud from the Amazons, and yes I made them a lot more blood thirsty. Queen Markunda-Tagwizult is coming across as quite the unbalanced leader of her people; that's what makes her so dangerous. I have no clue what she'll do next.  
  
**Desperate** – I eagerly await an email from you. ;-) Never fear, Sharif has been prodding me to set things right in "The Other Side." I'm afraid to say, so has Thias – Nabil's arch enemy.  
  
**The Kidd Mdd** – are ya sitting down? I answered your email. LOL Sorry if I'm ruining your manicure but don't chew your nails down just yet. Nabil is about to ride into the very bowls of hell to rescue Reyhan. And yes, Berin's warning to Nabil a few parts ago will come true...eek! ;-) Btw, I'm flattered you like my portrayal of Kedar and his friendship with Ardeth. Bless Bug for letting me 'play' with him; it's fun to write the hulu waHsh [sweet beast.] Thanks for reading and visting my site. [smiles]  
  
**Karri **– One out of thousands may be weakening but will it be enough? Thanks for reading. Btw – when I can, I shall most certainly read your LOTR fanfic again because it's that good, not that I'm obligated. ;-) One of these days, I'll come over to the LOTR fanfic and then I shall bug you for advice and whatnot. Lol  
  
**SerenaFehr** – I believe that everyone has some good in them, with some it's just harder to find. Muhjah will have to make a critical decision that will change the course of her life...forever. For the love of one man...she will have to decide if it's worth it. And btw, thanks for your beta'ing skills – you make me look good. ;-) _


	16. The Real Part XV

_The Real Part XV  
_  
_Tuareg encampment...  
_  
The dark starry sky, a black velvet canopy studded with a million diamonds, its vast beauty unmarred and pristine, starkly contrasted with the emotional turmoil occurring on the desert floor.  
  
Jericho stirred, a low moan of pain slipping from him as his eyelids fluttered open. He frowned in confusion as he tried to comprehend why he was outside rather than resting in his home. Suddenly the memories came rushing back to him and he was plagued by the nameless fear that someone he cared about was dying.  
  
Foolishly he tried to move. Waves of pain rolled from his shoulder down his arm and Jericho bit his lip in an effort to hold back his agonized groan. He was lying on his side, curled up into the fetal position, gulping in great draughts of air as he struggled to master the pain.  
  
Eventually it withdrew and was replaced with the strong desire to check on his warriors...to check on Dharr.  
  
Gritting his teeth, Jericho pushed up and rolled to his knees, willing himself to remain conscious. He hung his head and waited for the black dots to recede from his peripheral vision, his eyes sliding shut. Moments later he opened them and looked up, searching over what seemed to be an endless sea of wounded Medjai.  
  
A tortured moan rose up in his throat; so many wounded...how many dead? What of Jameel and Madjy?  
  
Slowly he started to crawl through the sand, searching for the one warrior that he had always considered to be more than his second in command. He was oblivious to how much he hurt, and to the thin trickle of blood that slowly oozed down one arm. He was a willing prisoner to his need and nothing would ease his heart until he knew Dharr's fate.  
  
Allah was kind to Jericho this night. The elder warrior finally found his friend a few minutes later, lying motionless under a small pile of blankets.  
  
"La..." Jericho murmured hoarsely and pulled his battered body next to his friend, his dark eyes glittering with unshed tears. He reached out with one trembling hand and gently wiped some of the dried blood from Dharr's pale face.  
  
"Hulu ir-raHman Allah, la..." he whispered and gingerly peeled back the stiff edges of the robe to quickly check the extent of Dharr's injuries, his eyes widening with horror when he realized the fabric was soaked with blood.  
  
Jericho was a seasoned warrior, a veteran commander that had witnessed many bloody campaigns during his years of service. He had seen countless fellow warriors fall; ashamedly he realized that he lacked the courage. He turned his face away as his throat constricted from the swell of grief, his heart aching over the thought of losing Dharr.  
  
Jericho dropped the robe without finishing his examination and reached down, taking one of Dharr's limp hands into his own. He bowed his head and searched for the words to use in his prayer, embarrassed that his mind could think of none.  
  
"Jericho?" a familiar voice whispered.  
  
He looked up and blinked in amazement when he saw that Emir had somehow moved next to his side. He knew that the young captain had to be in pain from his own wounds, but realized that the pull of brotherhood appeared to be far stronger.  
  
"Ya sahib," Jericho acknowledged him with a faint smile.  
  
"We will...watch over him...together," Emir murmured. He grimaced as he shifted on the sand, and reached for Dharr's hand, watching Jericho. He knew about the close relationship between the two warriors, remembering that Jericho had often referred to Dharr as the son that he never had. His friendship with Jericho had prompted him to move, despite the weakness that ravaged his body, and offer what support he could.  
  
"Aiwa...together." Jericho stared down at their hands now joined with Dharr's and he swallowed hard against his emotions, lest they embarrass him. Gratitude for Emir's assistance made him nod his thanks, appreciation for his presence inspired him to whisper a prayer that all of them would triumphantly return to the citadel.  
  
Emir's voice joined Jericho's as they softly chanted the prayer, and both warriors were reminded about a section of their oath...  
  
_That I give my life in service to those of my people, holding the honor of the Medjai as my own; I shall protect and cherish my warrior brothers..._

_----------  
_  
Lewnis Moubaye paced within the confines of his tent and uttered a string of curses beneath his breath as he ranted about the stupidity of his son, Drevick. At fifty-five summers, Lewnis was considered to be quite handsome; his body still strong despite the mane of black and silver hair that draped across his broad shoulders.  
  
"He is your son," he growled at the petite woman who sat across from him, watching him with her dark almond shaped eyes as she reclined against a small stack of pillows.  
  
"Forgive me if the years have left my memory slightly faulty but you were there at the moment of conception, were you not?" Tella retorted with an arched eyebrow. She knew she was speaking disrespectfully to her husband but over the past thirty-five years of marriage, it was a trait that he had come to admire. He often claimed that her forthrightness was part of the balance needed in his role as a leader of their people.  
  
Lewnis snorted and continued pacing. He raked his hungry gaze over Tella, amazed that despite the passage of time she was still as beautiful to him as the day they had met. Tella's lush womanly body tempted him beyond reason, and he was secretly delighted that the birth of their only son had changed it, embellishing its pleasing curves. Her eyes captivated him, her mouth drove him to distraction but it was her intelligence that kept him ensnared; their union was a happy one.  
  
"When his actions are conceived without thought or regard for the consequences, then he is your son," Lewnis clarified.  
  
"The boy that rode into this camp earlier, bearing the message from Drevick, and died in the arms of your captain was someone's son. You and I know he was attacked by the Hunud; would you like to see Drevick die the same way? And in my arms?" Tella asked.  
  
Lewnis stopped pacing and faced Tella as he rested his hands on his hips, his dark eyes reflecting the anguish and fear from that scenario. "I admire our son's courage, convictions and loyalty to his friend, Reyhan. But a Medjai," he sighed dejectedly.  
  
Tella gracefully rose from the cushions and stepped off the raised platform, walking over to her husband's side. She slid one arm around his lean waist and laid her head against his shoulder, relishing the contact. "Drevick has never taken the simple approach to life; just like his father." She walked around Lewnis and stopped in front of him, framing his face with her hands. "In all our years of marriage, I have never asked you for anything but now, I have no choice. I will not lose my son. Send the additional warriors to him, my husband, so that he may return home unharmed. I beg of you."  
  
Lewnis' heart ached from Tella's plea and he reached up and took one of her hands, pressing a kiss on the palm. She spoke the truth and he knew he could not deny her request. "A Medjai," he groaned, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. "When that boy gets home, he and I are going to have a long talk about his choice in friends."  
  
Tella's eyes filled with tears as she smiled at her husband. "That is a discussion I would love to hear," she whispered and stood up on her toes, kissing Lewnis' cheek.

----------  
  
Two hours later Tella and Lewnis watched as three large groups of Tuareg rode out of the camp towards where they believed Drevick was stationed. They were unaware that a large group of Hunud was also headed in the same direction and that the resulting confrontation could cost them more than they ever realized.

----------  
  
As the moon slowly climbed up and settled into its eternal berth in the dark sky, seven riders rode across the desert plains. Several small columns of dust spiraled upwards into the wind, fluttering like banners before completely disappearing.  
  
The riders were grim and silent, each lost in their own thoughts as they contemplated their mortality while keeping their horses at a steady pace so they wouldn't be winded or exhausted once they reached their destination.  
  
Burdened by his own thoughts, Nabil glanced up at the moonlit sky and realized with a sinking heart that midnight was but a few hours away.  
  
They were running out of time...

----------  
  
_A/N – Sorry for the flub in the chapter numbers there, in my anxiousness to post this I miscounted. I blame that entirely on...erm, on a warrior passing by who was wearing nothing more than a pair of faded denim shorts. Yeah that's it. He was shirtless, barefoot; all that caramel colored skin...was it Ardeth? Nabil? Berin? Maybe I should go check. LOL As always thanks for reading and if you want, I could send a warrior by bearing a special note of appreciation. [eg]  
_  
**_S-s-shoutouts:  
_**  
**_Dawn369_** – _Forgive me I know RL has gotten hectic lately but have you updated Salvation yet? [wink] Preparing to go into hell itself is a good description about the mission Ardeth et al are undertaking. Against all odds, one would think they may not make it out alive...one would think.  
_  
**_Karri _**– _Thanks for reading, and the feedback. I'm glad you liked that chapter; I'm glad Ardeth and Nabil are back to being friends again.  
_  
**_TheDreamyOne_** – _Biting your nails, eh? Well we're poised on the precipice – I'll pay for the manicure so you can read the next few chapters with no concerns. LOL Thanks for reading!  
_  
**_SerenaFehr _**– _Many many thanks to you for taking some pretty garbled sentences/words and turning them into something sensible. Will the Rwalla- Hunud listen to Uthmann you ask? Considering the news he brings, I don't think he'll be the most popular boy at the party. But stranger things could happen...  
_  
**_The Kidd Mdd_** – _there you are, hope you had a wonderful vacation. No need to apologize my friend. IMHO this chapter defined a lot of character relationships, and Kedar facing off with Nabil was just one of them. As for the message being sent to the citadel, that will be answered soon enough. Sorry but I had to laugh at the "Hunud hell", however according to Dante's Inferno there are nine circles of hell. To quote the immortal Patrick Swayze from "Next of Kin" – you ain't seen bad but its coming. Keep that seatbelt on for a while longer please.  
_  
_Thanks for reading and leaving reviews; the end is approaching and within its chapters will come a surprise for a new story. But trust me, that won't appear until I tackle "Heroes" and the sequel to "Somewhere In Time." So many ideas, so little time. LOL _


	17. Part XVI

_Part XVI  
_  
_In the Rwalla-Hunud stronghold...  
_  
"I wish to see the Medjai," Muhjah-Aji demanded. Her face was expressionless but her eyes shimmered with sorrow that she fought to suppress. She felt a small measure of comfort in the knowledge that her cumbersome headgear partially obscured her face.  
  
"Have you come to admire your handiwork?" the guard asked with a malicious grin, holding open the tent flaps.  
  
Muhjah-Aji ignored the question and ducked inside the tent, bracing herself for the grisly scene that appeared before her. She swallowed against the anguished cry that threatened to spill forth and blinked against the tears that welled up in her eyes.  
  
Reyhan had been stripped down to his pants and tied to a large wooden cross lying on the ground. His lean body bore the marks of additional torture and his dark head had sagged to one side.  
  
A priestess was bent over him and was marking his chest with the sign of the hand, her eyes gleaming with the unholy fires of her obscene religion. She muttered and giggled as she carefully painted it. To Muhjah-Aji's horror she couldn't discern if the priestess' hands were stained from Reyhan's blood or from the dye used in making the symbol.  
  
The other woman glanced up and gave Muhjah-Aji a sly grin. "Ah, the infamous assassin wishes to observe the ceremonial preparation of the Medjai; this is a first," she said. She stood up and nodded her approval as she held up her stained dagger, offering it to Muhjah-Aji. "Come. Place your mark upon the body so all who see it will know of your prowess."  
  
Muhjah-Aji accepted the weapon but her composure faltered when she saw that Reyhan had been cruelly gagged once again. "Leave me," she snapped. "I wish to do this in private, and will invoke a prayer for us to be victorious in battle."  
  
The priestess vigorously bobbed her head making her long mangy tresses whip wildly about her shoulders. "Good, good but I must humbly request something from you. I have seen his eyes and desire them," she said and walked over to Reyhan, grabbing his face with a dirty hand. She jerked it forward and tilted her head to one side as she studied him. "I love his eyes...the color is so powerful, reminding me of the fury of nature or the tempered steel of a sword. Oh yes, I want his eyes."  
  
"Leave me." Muhjah-Aji snapped as thoughts of disfiguring Reyhan's face enflamed her temper.  
  
The priestess raised an eyebrow over Muhjah-Aji's command but hurried past her, stopping before exiting the tent. "As you wish but remember the time draws near. I am sure you have no wish to keep Queen Markunda-Tagwizult waiting," she said over her shoulder and then ducked out of the tent.  
  
"I will always remember," Muhjah-Aji whispered and slowly walked over to Reyhan's side. She knelt down and bowed her head, finally giving in to the gnawing ache in her heart.  
  
Why did this feel so wrong?  
  
There was no honor in what the priestess planned to do to the warrior; it was a pagan sacrificial ceremony designed to inflame the hatred for the Medjai and the lust for battle. Reyhan had been a pawn in the twisted game that her queen had chosen to play, the catalyst for a war designed to bring the inhabitants of the Sahara to their knees.  
  
Queen Markunda-Tagwizult's intention had always been to become the predominant ruler of the desert. Her greedy intentions mocked what Muhjah- Aji had believed to be something good and pure - the friendship between a Medjai, a Tuareg and a Rwalla-Hunud.  
  
Reyhan's life would be among the thousands of lives that would be lost, and Muhjah-Aji knew her that her queen would be satisfied with nothing less than to turn the sands red with blood.  
  
"What have I done?" Muhjah-Aji whispered as the dagger slipped from her hand and slid to the ground, her mind reeling from the ramifications of her actions.  
  
Love for her warrior swelled within her soul and as she stared at his handsome face, she knew that she had to save him. It would earn her scorn and condemnation from her people but she would gladly risk everything, all that she was, so Reyhan would live.  
  
Muhjah-Aji leaned over and roused Reyhan, gently tapping his face. He regained consciousness with a start and his eyes snapped open, his nostrils flaring as he drew in deep, ragged breaths. He strained against the ropes for a moment, and jerked his head away from Muhjah-Aji's hand.  
  
"Reyhan," Muhjah-Aji called softly. She gripped his chin and forced him to look at her, gasping from the hatred that emanated from his eyes. Silently she acknowledged that the priestess had been right – Reyhan's eyes were quite powerful. And the myriad of emotions she saw swirling in their depths bruised her heart.  
  
Reyhan continued to weakly struggle but Muhjah-Aji ignored it as she pushed the gag down from his mouth. "Stop fighting me and listen," she ordered and paled from the intensity of his baleful glare. "I have something to tell you and there isn't much time."  
  
Reyhan's eyes slid closed but opened moments later, defeat lurking within their depths. "Leave me...go away and let...me die," he rasped. "Your betrayal...speaks for you now."  
  
"Stubborn camel," Muhjah-Aji sighed and leaned closer, framing Reyhan's face with her hands. "Listen to me, I have to save you. I'm just not sure how," she almost sobbed.  
  
Reyhan blinked in surprise at Muhjah-Aji's declaration; it changed into wonder as he gazed into the dark depths of her eyes. Her love for him shone through, like the golden rays of sunlight spearing a dark storm cloud; its brilliance transformed her face. She was never more beautiful to him than at this moment and his eyes softened, his heart blossoming with love.  
  
But it was too late; he had already accepted his fate. "I cannot be...saved. I will die this night and...it is my destiny. I do not...wish to die badly."  
  
"No," Muhjah-Aji cried softly. Her hands smoothed back the hair from his face as her mind continued its frantic planning. "We can run away. We could go somewhere so far away that no one will find us. We can do this, I just need to..."  
  
"Listen to me, soghairi," Reyhan sighed and winced from the pain in his ribs. He swallowed against the fear of his impending death and stared at Muhjah-Aji's face, burning the image to memory. "You know...as well as I...we would not get...very far. It is...useless to flee."  
  
Muhjah-Aji shook her head at the remorse and finality in Reyhan's voice as a lone tear slowly trickled down her face. The truth in his words pierced through the belief she could save him, splintering it with ease. She had done her job well and the irony of it was not lost on her. To her people she was a skilled huntress and warrior, yet she had been easily defeated by a warrior whose eyes saw far too much and too deeply.  
  
Voices outside the tent cruelly reminded Muhjah-Aji that there was little else she could do; they were coming for Reyhan. She leaned back and glanced down at the dagger lying on the ground, lifting her gaze to meet Reyhan's pleading one.  
  
"Do it," he ordered hoarsely. "Kill me...now. I would rather die here...and by your hand..."  
  
"Shhh," Muhjah-Aji whispered and pulled the gag over Reyhan's mouth. She bent down and brushed her lips across the fabric. "I swear on my oath I will not fail you. I will find a way to save you but for now, all I can offer is one act of contrition. They will think that it is my mark."  
  
Reyhan watched as Muhjah-Aji held up the bloody dagger and his eyes widened in horror as she raised it above her head. He thrashed about but to no avail; the blade plunged into his infected shoulder. His scream of agony was muffled and mercifully short as she expertly dug the scarab larvae from his body; he lost consciousness moments later.  
  
As he floated towards blessed oblivion, Muhjah-Aji's whispered promise of salvation echoed in his mind.

----------  
  
Muhjah-Aji emerged from the tent several minutes later and paused for a moment, trying to regain her composure. She hid her trembling hands behind her back and glanced up at the heavens, praying that she had chosen the right path this night.  
  
The guard peeked into the tent and then looked back at Muhjah-Aji. "There is blood all over the place," she stated admiringly. "You have marked the Medjai well and the priestess will be quite pleased."  
  
"How wonderful for the priestess," Muhjah-Aji remarked softly and slowly walked away from the tent...  
  
...away from the warrior who had captured her heart. She wanted to run from the feelings of hopelessness and frustration, away from what she had become. She was no better than the warriors that had gathered around the queen's platform, banging their spears against the ground and chanting for blood.  
  
For Reyhan's blood...

----------  
  
Suleyman-Tansu leaned forward in the saddle as her horse galloped across the sands, a malevolent smile spreading across her face. She carried her war spear low and against her thigh; her arm ached from holding it. But it was a minor discomfort and one easily dismissed as she gleefully imagined throwing it, impaling a hapless Medjai in the chest.  
  
This was what she lived for – the thrill of the hunt and the heady rush from its conclusion.  
  
This was what she was – loyal to her queen and to the belief that one day all of the desert would be ruled by the Hunud.  
  
And this is what she chose to ignore – a barren, loveless life void of any tenderness, companionship or compassion. She was firmly dedicated to the Hunud, and would never believe that her life could have been so much better.  
  
Her smile widened when the rider at point signaled that they were nearing the Tuareg encampment...

-----  
  
"What am I to do with you?" Berin murmured as he gently moved Jericho's limp body closer to Dharr's. The air had grown considerably colder since nightfall and although Jericho's body would soon be gripped by fever, it was better for the warriors to lie close together, conserving body heat.  
  
He didn't expect a response and, with paternal tenderness, Berin's large hand smoothed an errant hair away from Jericho's face. He adjusted the blanket across the warrior's shoulders and then turned to Emir who was fighting to remain conscious.  
  
"Will you tuck me...in as well, abu?" Emir murmured. A weak smile skimmed across his face as Berin knelt down by his side, dragging another cover across his legs.  
  
"No bedtime stories for you, ya sahib," Berin replied with a rare display of humor, despite the severity of the situation. "You need to rest. Reinforcements will be arriving shortly to take you back to the city and the ride will be long and grueling. Save your strength."  
  
"Dharr must be taken care of first," Emir stated. He raised himself slightly to look over his shoulder, checking on the younger warrior.  
  
Berin easily pushed Emir down, reluctant to give any credence to his own fears regarding the young warrior's condition. "Take comfort in the knowledge that I will personally attend to him; I swear on my oath."  
  
"The lives of so many rest on your shoulders, ya sahib. We are fortunate that you are so strong." Emir sighed as the overwhelming need for slumber started to pull him under. He fell asleep moments later, his hand still joined with Jericho's and Dharr's.  
  
"La, I am the fortunate one," Berin murmured. He climbed to his feet and looked up at the night sky, its astral palette providing a brief respite from his troubled thoughts. The fate of Reyhan and Nabil was never far from his mind and he was glad that they were safe inside the city.  
  
"Honored Second," Drevick called out as he hurried over to the warrior; Yousef and Jameel followed in his wake. "Stand ready, the sentry reports that we are about to have visitors."  
  
"A great number of visitors," Yousef snorted and Jameel readily agreed.

----------  
  
_A/N – for those who I review, trust me, I shall do so as soon as I can. RL has been extremely hectic this week and I haven't had the chance to do much – not even take a lunch. This chapter wasn't short [winks at Karri] and if you feel the way I do, it was very powerful. Muhjah-Aji has reached a juncture in her life where her actions [as we will see in the next few chapters] will either exonerate or denounce her in the eyes of her people and the Medjai. I have to wonder how you, the reader, will eventually judge her? [smile]  
_  
_On the shout0uts:  
_  
**_Dawn369_** – _writing the scene with Jericho and Dharr just seemed to fit. I think it highlighted the deep bond of friendship between them and in the trials to come, that bond will be sorely tested...but hold. And you got me worried about what you plan for the upcoming chapters of "Salvation." LOL  
_  
**_Karri_** – _Lewnis and Tella seemed to be a hit and I'm glad you liked Tella; I picture this small but incredibly strong woman who loves fiercely and deeply. She will protect her son no matter what. But will Lewnis remain faithful to his people when circumstance may call upon him to step outside the familiar boundary as a leader? Thanks for reading.  
_  
**_LadyBug1_** – _No worries about falling behind, I appreciate you reading and catching up. Emir is coming across as a likeable fellow but try not to chew off all of your fingernails just yet. The stuff is about to hit the fan and you know me; I have my evil reputation to live up to. [evil grin]  
_  
**_The Kidd Mdd_** – _Dharr is out of action for the moment but trust me, I'll write some more about him soon. I like bringing out the human side to my boys as well and I swear that someday soon, I'll be nice and write some lovely romance for them so they can be happy. LOL After reading this chapter, how's that belt holding up? Hee hee Thanks for checking out Berin on my site...if I can find more pictures, I'll get them up asap. And of course, thanks for reading! _

_**SerenaFehr - **Jericho doesn't have many faults but I guess if we were to examine what he does have, caring too deeply for those under his command would be one of them. And I'm glad you liked the glimpse with Lewnis and Tella. Does liking them make it harder to hate them if and when the time comes for the old hatred to surface? I always have to wonder about these things. ;-) And shukran all your help, tis greatly appreciated, my friend. _

_And one last comment before I go - remember my question regarding Suleyman-Tansu and her comeuppance? I haven't forgotten the response to that and trust me, it's coming...oh my yes, it's coming. Thanks! _


	18. Part XVII

_Part XVII  
_  
Shouted obscenities and threats heralded the arrival of the Medjai and the Tuareg in camp. The two factions faced one another as chaos ensued and small pockets of fighting broke out, the years of hatred between the two nations bubbling over.  
  
It took the joint efforts of Berin, Jameel, Drevick and Yousef to successfully quell the hostility, their united stand most likely shocking the combatants. Reluctantly a temporary peace was restored but was occasionally tested when tempers flared and accusations were leveled.  
  
The concern for the injured Medjai prompted Drevick to show Berin that he had every intention of honoring the pact between their people. He worked tirelessly to help construct the carriers for the wounded, and supervised those with critical injuries to be taken first.  
  
Only Yousef was aware of the mixed emotions that he kept inside. He was shocked when he had learned that his father had decided to help and had sent the additional men. And he was sad to learn that the young boy had paid for his errand with his life. Feelings were not a luxury to be indulged in at the moment, and Drevick stoically continued helping the Medjai. The only sign of his inner turmoil was the clenching of his jaw.  
  
Berin and Jameel welcomed their brethren with tremulous relief; both warriors would not be satisfied until Jericho, Dharr, Emir and Madjy were out danger and resting within the city walls.  
  
Working together with the men who were once believed to be the enemy, Berin and Jameel assisted Drevick and Yousef in whatever capacity was needed. They unwittingly earned the grudging respect of the other Tuareg by their selfless actions and conduct; the honor of the Medjai ran true and deep.  
  
When the majority of the Medjai had been taken away, a small amount of comical relief came when Makin decided to taunt a Tuareg. They had secured the last of the carriers and were walking back to their horses, exchanging good natured insults and barbs.  
  
Makin was a young but formidable warrior, his size and power almost comparable to Berin's. It was whispered within the warrior sect that someday Makin's strength would surpass even the legendary Kedar, commander of the tribe of the First. Standing several inches over six feet in height, the gods had not only blessed Makin with his great size, but a bizarre sense of humor as well.  
  
"If you wish to talk about reach, then let us discuss the scimitar." Makin grinned at the Tuareg warrior, and held out his blade, the tip pointed at the man's chest.  
  
The Tuareg snorted and waved off Makin's suggestion. "A true warrior does not need to hide behind his weapon. He should embrace the opportunity to come face to face with his enemy."  
  
"And receive a dagger in his stomach as his reward." Sharif spoke up, his amber colored eyes clouded with a distant memory. The quietly intense and handsome young warrior was best friends with Makin and Solman; the three of them had trained together prior to their induction into the warrior sect.  
  
"We should have a sparring session at a neutral meeting place in the desert," Makin suggested and looked at the Tuareg to see if he was interested. "I promise not to hurt you too much."  
  
"Mount up," Berin interrupted before the Tuareg could scoff at Makin's comment. While he was secretly amused by younger warrior's antics, he was more than anxious to return to the citadel. A disturbing feeling had suddenly swept over him and with it came a strong sense of dread that Nabil and Reyhan were in danger.  
  
"May you be granted a safe journey home," Drevick said and walked towards Berin's horse. "For obvious reasons I will stay here, but ask that you keep me informed..."  
  
Suddenly a spear whistled through the air and buried itself deep within the chest of Berin's horse; the animal screamed and toppled over to one side. Its death throes had trapped Berin underneath it and as he struggled to free himself, Makin and Jameel rushed over to help him.  
  
Drevick shouted his battle cry as another spear sliced through the darkness, and he pulled his weapon free. He spun around to face the threat and his eyes widened in horror when he saw the Hunud swarming over what he had hoped would have been his protection.  
  
The outcroppings of boulders did little to stem the black tide of evil that was rolling towards him.

----------  
  
It was often noted, with a certain amount of fond amusement that upon meeting Commander al Fa'ud one needed to be prepared to take on the brunt of the conversation. Nabil had a tendency, as observed by his fellow warrior brothers, of withdrawing from the exchange until he was required to respond. Those closest to him believed that the habit resulted from the years he had spent living on the street, fighting for survival.  
  
Ardeth and Kedar had surmised that it was a tactic designed to help Nabil observe a person and enable him to differentiate if they were friend or foe.  
  
As the ride to the Rwalla-Hunud stronghold progressed, Nabil withdrew from the sporadic conversation, his gaze constantly skimming over the vast desert landscape. His self imposed reverie wasn't prompted by the need to observe and judge but by the intense fear that Reyhan would die.  
  
Ardeth, Kedar, Zaki and Haytham took turns riding alongside Nabil. As much as he longed to be left to his thoughts, their presence was both comforting and familiar, reaffirming the bond between them.  
  
Nabil glanced up at the moon and realized it had reached its full berth. Were they too late?  
  
"Does anyone feel that?" Haytham's hoarse whisper broke the tense silence that had fallen over the warriors.  
  
Nabil gave the signal to stop but had trouble controlling his skittish mount. An unnatural stillness had fallen over the land and his horse nervously sidestepped, bobbing its head in agitation.  
  
"Look towards the north," Ardeth instructed, his face a grim mask as he struggled to bring his horse under control.  
  
A large bright orange glow sputtered and flared to life, as red and yellow flames spiked up into the night sky. The deep bass of a drum rolled out across the sands, its throbbing tone sounding ominous and savage. The steady and sinister cadence flooded the senses of all the riders – something dark and evil was reaching across the land.  
  
"What does this mean?" Haytham asked. Each time the drums sounded, it felt as if his heartbeat stuttered in his chest.  
  
"They are about to start the ceremony," Uthmann-Dunoud replied.  
  
"It is time," Nabil announced and turned to his saddlebags, pulling out a large brown robe.  
  
Quickly, the riders disguised themselves and took great care in making certain Uthmann-Dunoud's identity was concealed. The warriors pulled up their face coverings, and then wrapped an additional swath of fabric to ensure that their sacred marks were undistinguishable.  
  
Satisfied that they appeared to be traveling horsemen from an unknown tribe, Nabil gave the command to ride.  
  
With the steady drumbeats as their companion, the riders kicked their horses into a run and galloped towards what appeared to be hell incarnate.

----------  
  
"Pull!" Yousef shouted at Makin and Drevick above the din of battle. His sword was a slivery blur as he swung around and blocked a Hunud from attacking Sharif. He grunted from the impact, amazed at the strength of the woman, and kicked out with his foot, hitting her in the chest.  
  
The Hunud cursed and stumbled back a few paces, directly into the path of Jameel's blade as it whistled through the air. Her life ended a few moments later and she fell to the maroon colored ground.  
  
Makin and Drevick groaned in unison as they struggled to pull Berin free from the weight of his dead horse. Berin's leg was trapped underneath but with the help of the others, he was slowly gaining his freedom, inch by torturous inch.  
  
"Have you...ever considered losing...weight, ya saHib?" Makin groaned as he and Drevick pulled on Berin. He caught Drevick's look of disbelief from his question and gave the Tuareg a faint smile. "Well he does feel heavier."  
  
"Pull for the love of Allah...stop chattering and just pull, I am almost free," Berin growled as he felt the circulation rush back into his leg, poking him like sharp pins and needles. He placed his large hands against the saddle and when he felt Makin and Drevick tug on him again, he shoved the carcass as hard as he could.  
  
The muscles in Makin's arms swelled from the effort and Drevick uttered a few dark curses as they continued Berin's extraction. Suddenly he and Drevick lost their footing in the soft sand when Berin heaved the horse away from him; they tumbled backwards and into the melee.  
  
Years of training propelled Makin to roll to the side just as a Hunud drove her spear into the spot where his head had been. With a fluid, animal-like grace he pulled his scimitar free and came to his feet, blocking the well thrown spear and deflecting it.  
  
Drevick narrowly missed getting decapitated and he rolled to the other side, his own weapon announcing its freedom with a resounding metallic ring. He came to his knees and brought his sword over his head to parry a thrust, then dove forward. He twisted around and viciously cut his attacker's ankle, effectively crippling her; once she was down he quickly ended her life.  
  
Drevick took a few precious moments to catch his breath, unaware that death stalked him from one side.  
  
"Now is not the time to...lie down, Tuareg," Sharif panted as he grabbed Drevick's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Get up and fight!"  
  
Drevick called upon the last reserves of his strength and met the oncoming charge of a Hunud with his battle cry. As he parried her attack, the realization that the enemy could win this fight began to wear on him. The fear of dying a needless death weighed heavily upon him, and his defenses weakened, earning him a deep gash on his arm.  
  
The pain snapped Drevick out of his stupor and he renewed his fight with enthusiastic vigor. He would live to greet another day and most importantly of all, he would be with Reyhan again. He would see his friend and together they would mourn the loss of Tabari...together they would honor his memory.  
  
The Hunud Drevick had been fighting finally fell but was quickly replaced by another. The young Tuareg attacked his new opponent, and ignored the warm splashes of blood that spattered over him. He allowed himself to dream of the days when he was a young boy. And of the games they used to play.  
  
A burning pain erupted in his side and Drevick looked down in amazement to see a spear partially imbedded in his body. He swayed unsteadily as he heard Sharif shouting his name over the roaring in his ears.  
  
Determined to fight until the end, Drevick raised his sword and awkwardly charged the Hunud, deriving a small amount of pleasure from the surprised look on her face.

----------

Berin slowly crawled away from the horse as instinct prompted him to unsheathe his blade; he raised it in time to stop a Hunud's spear from stabbing him in the chest. His massive arm bulged from the strain as he climbed to his feet and came face to face with the Hunud. His hands tightened around the hilt of the blade as it held the spear at bay. They did a parody of a dance, each seeking each other's strengths and weaknesses.  
  
"Honored Second," the helmeted Hunud hissed in acknowledgement. She applied pressure to the spear and inwardly cringed when the warrior's blade didn't waver.  
  
"qaT'a min yaha," Berin growled in response. He shut out the sounds of the battle raging around him and tested a theory of his own. He lowered his scimitar and saw that the tip of the spear dipped.  
  
"Prepare to die," Suleyman-Tansu screamed. She whipped her spear away from the scimitar and swung it around her waist. She changed hands and lunged forward just as it shot out from her body, propelled by her momentum.  
  
Berin easily blocked the spear with one swipe of his blade; he batted it down to the ground and spun around, smacking the lower portion of the Hunud's helmet.  
  
Suleyman-Tansu flew backwards from the blow and fell on her back; she flipped over on to her feet, pulling out her sword. She blinked in amazement when she saw Berin holding her spear in one large hand.  
  
"Tsk. Playing with sticks is a child's game," Berin admonished and shook his head. He dropped one end of the spear to the ground and stepped on it, easily snapping it in two.  
  
"I will kill you and send your soul to hell!" Suleyman-Tansu shouted, incensed by the casual display of power by the Medjai.  
  
Berin gestured her forward with a supercilious wave of his hand. "You are welcome to try, little girl," he replied. His voice rolled up from deep within his chest, sounding very much like the roar of a lion.  
  
Suleyman-Tansu was blinded by rage and rushed Berin as all strategic thoughts of fighting escaped from her mind. She gave her battle cry as she brought her sword up for the killing blow, her arrogance lending her false confidence.  
  
Berin braced himself for the attack as his dark eyes swept over the oncoming Hunud, seeking an opening. He waited until she was almost on top of him and ducked beneath her attack, slamming his elbow in her lower back. He whirled around as she twisted her body and regained her footing.  
  
Suleyman-Tansu attacked him again and held her blade low; she caught him around the waist and felt a moment's triumph when she heard his startled grunt. They fell to the ground in a tangled heap of arms and legs, wrestling each other for dominance. Deciding to weigh the outcome of this fight in her favor, Suleyman-Tansu's thumb pressed on a small button hidden at the base of her sword handle. A long narrow spike instantly emerged and before the warrior could defend himself, she plunged it deep into his shoulder.  
  
Berin retaliated and smashed his fist into the Hunud's face, feeling a small amount of satisfaction when he felt bones crunch. The reluctance to fight her with all of his skill as a warrior had held him at bay, since essentially he was fighting a woman. The Medjai treated their women with the utmost respect and honor; those qualities vanished when she began to fight unfairly.  
  
With a roar, Berin threw Suleyman-Tansu away from him and he climbed to his feet, determined to end their battle. Ignoring the blood streaming down his arm, Berin stalked the dazed Hunud like a predator, his dark eyes never leaving her face as he closed in for the kill.  
  
Suleyman-Tansu gripped her sword and stood her ground, defiant in the face of death. Foolishly she charged the Medjai, and her battle cry rang through the air; it changed into a death rattle several moments later.  
  
Berin yanked his scimitar free from the Hunud's throat and dispassionately watched as she crumpled to the ground. He bent over the body and slowly wiped his blade clean. "That was for Reyhan," he murmured.  
  
Startled by the sudden quiet, Berin looked up and was startled to find he was one of the few survivors left standing. His weary gaze swept over the camp as he mentally calculated the casualties, both Medjai and Tuareg. He sheathed his scimitar and trudged forward, starting the bleak process of checking for survivors.

----------

_Translation: qaT'a min yaha - piece of shit   
  
Da shoutouts:  
  
**Nakhti **– A thousand thank you's for catching up with my humble story and since you were the 100th reviewer, a treat is arriving in the mail. ;-) You've made so many great observations and asked questions that in order to answer them, I shall have to email you. However I will touch on one thing – Suleyman-Tansu is a Rwalla-Hunud, no more, no less. After reading this chapter, I guess it's pretty obvious where her loyalties lie. And I have to be honest, credit goes to my beta Serena for "The dark starry sky, a black velvet canopy studded with a million diamonds..." She took a mass of jumbled words and changed them into something beautiful and fitting. Thanks for reading and if you need some inspiration for HN, let me know and I'll think of something. ;-)  
  
**Karri** – So you like Reyhan, eh? I may play rough with my characters but take a small measure of comfort in knowing he will make it through this particular adventure...somewhat...erm, somehow. LOL Thanks for reading.  
  
**Dawn369** – Actually I'm taking Nakhti's advice from one of her reviews about not killing off something/someone evil. The Hunud are a blood thirsty, cruel, and power-hungry matriarchate nation – they will rise again to wreck havoc, trust me. I'm glad you like the other aspects of Berin, but have to ask that after reading this chapter, you're glad he's the fierce warrior, yes? ;-)  
  
**The Kidd Mdd** – "It is my hope that Berin gores that she-devil Suleyman with her own spear! Yeah!:-)" Ask and ye shall receive...LOL Would you say that she got what she deserved? Check your seat belt, we haven't even hit the first plummet yet but I really do appreciate your reading. Thanks so much! ;-) _


	19. Part XVIII

_Part XVIII  
_  
"Berin!" Jameel shouted as he stood on top of one of the boulders. He waved his arms in the air and stopped a moment later when the exhausted sub commander turned his way.  
  
"He is all right?" Makin asked. He stood below Jameel and had been helping Yousef staunch the flow of blood from Drevick's side.  
  
Jameel nodded and then disappeared down the other side a moment later, determined to help Berin whether he wanted it or not.  
  
Makin went back and knelt down on the other side of Drevick, watching as Yousef tied the ends of the bandage. "Shukran to your men for turning around and coming back to help us after the Hunud attacked," he said.  
  
Yousef shook his head and met Makin's dark gaze with his own worried one. "It is I who should give my thanks to you for saving Drevick's life."  
  
Makin shrugged off Yousef's appreciation when an idea suddenly inspired him. "Would you be interested in having a sparring session someday soon?" he asked with a grin.  
  
"Ya saHib," Sharif called out. "We must leave at once. Ardeth and Nabil have most likely reached the Hunud encampment by now and will need our assistance."  
  
Yousef blinked in surprise. "You are riding into the enemy's camp?"  
  
Makin nodded his head and stood up, his hand resting on the hilt of his scimitar. "And if we are fortunate, we will engage the Hunud and distract them long enough for Nabil to rescue Reyhan."  
  
"Then allow me to show my gratitude for your aid," Yousef said as he stood up. He signaled to a nearby group of mounted Tuareg and the warriors immediately reached back into their saddle bags, producing small curved black horns.  
  
They guided their horses into a circle and lifted the horns to their lips, so that the call went out on the wind and to all points of the compass. As Jameel and Berin joined the group, the unique sound carried over dune and valley, across the plains and mountains. It skipped across the land, and heralded the Tuareg to come join their brothers.  
  
"Never let it be said that Tuareg do not repay a kindness," Yousef said with a slight bow as the horns continued to sound. He looked at Berin and frowned in concern noticing the dark stain that was slowly spreading across his shoulder. "You are welcome to ride back to our nearest village so that a healer can tend to your shoulder."  
  
"I will take Drevick," Berin murmured, and knew that he had surprised everyone with his declaration. Too weary to care about the opinions of others, he was compelled to act on what he believed was the admirable thing to do. To carry the young tenacious Tuareg from the battlefield and deliver him to the safety of his village was an act of honor and respect.  
  
"They are coming!" one of the riders shouted as the distinct sound of a horn's response drifted back to them on the wind.  
  
Yousef walked over to Sharif and watched as Berin was helped onto a horse, and then given the limp body of Drevick. "The pact between our people is still binding; Drevick would not want our truce destroyed so easily by a Hunud spear."  
  
Sharif bowed to Yousef and gestured for the Medjai to mount their horses. "Your generosity will not go unnoticed," he said.  
  
"If you're ever interested in sparring..." Makin called as he climbed into the saddle.  
  
Yousef blinked in surprise from the young Medjai's offer and looked at Sharif. "Is he always like this?" he asked.  
  
Sharif snorted. "You have no idea."

----------  
  
Bathed in the ethereal light of the moon, eight riders sat on the crest of a small ridge that overlooked the Rwalla-Hunud encampment and stared in disbelief. Hundreds of small fires dotted the landscape that surrounded the horseshoe shaped area, throwing grotesque shadows on the ground as the Hunud celebrated the imminent death of a Medjai.  
  
Nabil believed he felt the earth rumble beneath him as hundreds of war spears hit the ground in perfect unison with the drums; soft, maniacal chanting added to the oppressive evil that hung heavily in the night air. The Hunud were in a frenzied state as they moved about, the red hand symbol winking evilly in the moonlight.  
  
The crowd gathered in front of a platform rolled and seethed as if one entity. Thousands of black armored and partially clad bodies twirled and gyrated to the drum beat; lithe, strong and sinuous, they moved with voracious ease. What skin was exposed shone like burnt copper in the firelight as long, wild hair whipped around as the dancing increased.  
  
"Kill...kill...kill...kill," the mob chanted as one.  
  
"maHbub Allah," Ardeth murmured as his gaze swept over the area, noting its strategic strengths and weaknesses. He shook his head in amazement and disbelief when he realized he never knew that the Hunud had grown so powerful.  
  
"Nabil," Kedar called out, his voice hoarse with anger mingled with grief. He reached over and placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "I have located Reyhan and he is..."  
  
"Oh Allah," Nabil whispered and looked to where Kedar was pointing, his heart shattering from the belief that he had failed his brother.  
  
Reyhan's battered and bleeding body hung limply from the ropes that bound him to a large wooden cross that had been set up in front of a ceremonial platform. Riders were circling around the makeshift arena and their shrill battle cries incited the crowd into a feverish pitch. They rode by Reyhan and took turns slashing at him with their spears; some passes drew blood and the Hunud howled with glee.  
  
"The queen is holding court there." Uthmann-Dunoud pointed to the stand at the opposite end of the arena. "As custom, and in a show of power, she will be surrounded by her war captains and officers; in the place of honor to her right is Muhjah-Aji. When the time comes, address only the queen – your presence will certainly enrage the warriors but they will not harm you unless she commands it. Her insatiable curiosity will keep you alive for a few minutes I believe."  
  
Nabil and Kedar exchanged worried glances from Uthmann-Dunoud's comments.  
  
"We are the bringers of death and yet we have been touched by the light," Solman suddenly spoke up and gestured at the moon.  
  
Haytham smiled faintly at Solman's observation, amazed by the unerring simplicity of the young man's words. "He is right you know," he said as he turned to the others, staring at each one until his gaze rested on Nabil. "Are you sure you're ready to go on the ride of a lifetime?"  
  
Nabil blinked in surprise at Haytham's question. "Are you sure you wish to accompany me?" Nabil retaliated with a question of his own as his silvery gaze danced from one warrior to the next.  
  
"And miss this adventure?" Zaki asked, his golden eyes sparkling with mirth. "Surely you jest," he chuckled as he adjusted his face covering.  
  
"Ah, think of the story I will have to tell my grandchildren someday," Haytham said as he patted his horse's neck. "Run well and fast tonight, ya sahib," he murmured to the animal.  
  
Kedar frowned at Haytham. "Grandchildren? You are not even married, ya sahib," he snorted.  
  
"I will be someday," Haytham replied with a quick grin.  
  
"Well, I always wanted to ride into the heart of the enemy but I had hoped to go in fighting, wielding my scimitar to create my path," Kedar sighed dramatically.  
  
"Just bellow at everyone, ya ukh," Ardeth said with a slight smile. "Allah knows your lungs are strong enough."  
  
"And you are intimidating," Kedar growled as he struggled not to laugh at the expression on Ardeth's face. "Aiwa, I heard from a reliable source about your adventure in Salma Aludra's kitchen."  
  
"Jericho..." Ardeth muttered.  
  
"It is unfortunate that no one has had the time to study the Hunud," Talib stated wistfully, his love of research prompting the statement.  
  
Zaki chuckled and shook his head. "I do not know about you, ya sahib, but the only place I wish to study a Hunud is at the end of my scimitar."  
  
Uthmann-Dunoud frowned in confusion as the lighthearted bickering continued and he found himself puzzled by their behavior. As he watched them check their weapons and make last minute adjustments to their saddles, he realized that the levity was a tool used to relieve the mounting tension.  
  
"May Allah watch over us this night," Nabil said as he pulled up his face covering. He gave the signal a moment later and guided his horse down the incline, riding towards the black heart of the enemy whose malevolence almost rivaled He That Shall Not Be Named.

----------  
  
It was a beautiful night for a ride.  
  
The gentle breeze that blew in from the south carried within its currents the smell of the earth, of dry rich soil mingled with the delicate fragrance of flowers. It washed over Ardeth and melted into his being, saturating his senses. It gave a sense of comfort and balance, bringing forth childhood memories that were almost forgotten.  
  
Ardeth willingly lost himself in the recollections of the past as they drew closer to the enemy, desperate to buffer the images of the celebrating Hunud with those of his loving ume and abu. An internal battle waged within the warrior as goodness and light gave way to darkness and evil.  
  
Each drumbeat assaulted the senses, and each garish image of a Hunud warrior dancing in the firelight burned into his memory, and would linger for many nights to come.  
  
As chieftain of his people, Ardeth had faced death countless times in the past as he fulfilled his eternal duty as a guardian of the desert. As long as there was strength in his body, and breath in his lungs, Ardeth would continue to fulfill the obligation bestowed upon the Medjai on the eve of the Hom Dai thousands of years ago.  
  
It was this internal fortitude that Ardeth called upon as they neared the opening of the arena; the waves of astonishment morphing to hatred were tangible. His hand yearned to grip the hilt of his scimitar and pull it free, his warrior blood surging with the need for retribution.  
  
The thin veneer of the civilized chieftain almost gave way to the bringer of death that lurked beneath the surface. Ardeth's heart wanted justice for what the Hunud had done to Reyhan; his heritage demanded a reckoning.  
  
Instead, common sense prevailed for the moment and Ardeth barely stayed his hand, his temper simmering when he saw what they had done to Reyhan. He prayed for Allah to grant the Rwalla-Hunud mercy for he would certainly give none.

----------  
  
The drums abruptly stopped beating and several young teenage girls ran over to Reyhan, their hands skimming over his body in a pitiless caress. Some of them crowed with delight and showed their reddened hands to the crowd, smiling as numerous piercing battle cries filled the air.  
  
One of the girls placed a crude bowl at the base of the cross and then joined her companions as they ran off to one side. They chatted excitedly amongst themselves, speculating on who would be chosen to carry the bowl to the priestess that waited on the other side of the platform.  
  
Queen Markunda-Taqwizult leaned back in her chair and dangled one hand over the side, idly toying with the bleached skull of a vanquished enemy. She watched the festivities with an impious gleam in her dark eyes, pleased that everything had gone according to her plans.  
  
Tomorrow at dawn she would unleash the full strength of her abhorrence as several legions of warriors would ride to the Medjai city in one final assault. They would attack and destroy everything in their path, demolishing the stronghold until it was nothing but a pile of smoldering ashes. Like a swarm of locusts, they would cut a swathe through the remaining cities of the desert, leaving behind a bloody trail of desolation and despair.  
  
This is what Markunda-Tagwizult lived for; this is what she craved since her own life had been filled with bitter disappointment and betrayal. Her mother had been a whore, selling her body to whoever paid the most, and had claimed that a Medjai had impregnated her. She had often declared that the so-called noble warrior had conveniently forgotten his promise to provide for her, turning her rage against Markunda-Tagwizult. She made her only child suffer from abuse and hunger, unknowingly feeding the burgeoning hatred that would fuel Markunda-Tagwizult's ambition to someday rule the Hunud.  
  
When Markunda had ascended to the throne, she had vowed to make the sanctimonious guardians of the desert pay for their transgressions. Her rise to power had been swift and bloody; those who opposed her ideals were immediately executed. She had surrounded herself with an elite guard of supporters, and was confident that her reign as queen would last a lifetime.  
  
Heartless, cruel, and vindictive, Markunda-Tagwizult had many enemies among her followers and she was constantly fearful that one of them would try to assassinate her in order to gain access to the throne. She kept close to her only those that she trusted implicitly, and glanced around the platform as she watched her companions and officers enjoy the festivities.  
  
Oh, she had heard the stories, and listened with a calculating mind to the gossip that had traveled through the encampment like wildfire. Her dark gaze slid to Tizemet-Bahac whose latest actions were quite suspicious since she had suddenly become good friends with the grieving Damya-Ultafa. Her eyes narrowed as she recalled the report she had read, and had coldly dismissed the death of Damya-Ultafa's only child as a sacrifice for the good of the Hunud.  
  
What pricked her interest more than the death of Tabari-Yervant was how Tizemet-Bahac had lost possession of her dagger, and thought it odd that it had somehow ended up in the Medjai's hands. A Hunud warrior never relinquished her weapon, and fought to the death rather than face the wrath of her queen for her inferiority in battle.  
  
As was Damya-Ultafa's right, a blood feud had been invoked and Markunda- Tagwizult capitalized on it by proclaiming war against the Medjai. She reasoned to her supporters that there was no better revenge for Tabari's death than to gain complete control over the occupants of the Sahara. They would once again become a strong and forceful presence in the desert, and Markunda-Tagwizult would not rest until the Medjai Chieftain Ardeth Bay's heart was presented to her on a platter.  
  
Markunda-Tagwizult acknowledged the bearer that had stepped forward presenting the ceremonial dagger with a pompous wave of her hand, and turned to Muhjah-Aji. "By honoring your prowess in capturing the killer of Damya-Ultafa's son, it is your right to make the killing stroke," she said.  
  
Muhjah-Aji had been a silent, troubled presence standing next to the queen, and her sorrow showed in the depths of her dark eyes. She stared at the dagger, struggling to keep her anguish in check and ignoring the impulse to run to Reyhan's side. Her tortured gaze then danced around the platform, staring at each of her sister warriors until it came to rest on a gloating Tizemet-Bahac. Muhjah-Aji frowned when the other warrior leaned over to a comrade and whispered something conspiratorially, her gaze staring at the back of the queen's head. For one moment, hatred flashed in her eyes but when she realized she was being observed Tizemet-Bahac schooled her face into showing no emotion.  
  
"Take the dagger," the queen promptly impatiently.  
  
Muhjah-Aji reached for it, willing herself to remain numb and uncaring. "I am most honored, my queen," she murmured and walked down the steps of the platform.  
  
She glanced over her shoulder and stared at Tizemet-Bahac who boldly made a slashing motion with her hand, and then turned back to Reyhan. Each step was like a knife being plunged into her heart, and as she came closer to the cross she inwardly wept that the masculine beauty of his body had been marred perhaps forever. Her hand tightened around the hilt, and then loosened, over and over again until she stood close enough to slice the jugular.  
  
Muhjah-Aji took a deep breath, and realized that the air around her vibrated and tingled like a living, breathing entity. The crowd watched her with the unblinking eye of a predator, eager to see the Medjai die. She raised her arm and the drums rolled to life with one long ominous beat.  
  
"Kill...kill...kill...kill..." the chant started out as a whisper but steadily grew in strength and volume. Snippets of dark encouragement undulated and flowed around Muhjah-Aji and she drew her arm across her body. She would cut the jugular open with two quick slashes; her only way to ease Reyhan's suffering, allowing him to die a quick and merciful death. When the blade began its descent, a roar of fury rolled through the mob and it jarred Muhjah-Aji; she stopped and looked towards the opposite end of the arena.  
  
_A/N – I'm baaack...[eg] Sorry for the lapse in posting the chapters, but as the Kidd Mdd so aptly described it, I had a computer scarab to contend with...and it knocked me offline for a few weeks. But now it would appear everything is running just fine. Normally I would do the shout-out's but I just want to get this darn chappie posted. But I will acknowledge those who faithfully read this story, and left feedback that was often inspirational. **Dawn, Shel, Serena, Karri, the Kidd Mdd, Nakhti, and of course Ladybug1**...thank you all for reading my humble fanfic.  
_  
_Shall I remind you that it's not over until the lazy camel lies down...? Make sure your belts are still fastened, and remain in your seats until the ride is over. Lol Peace and thanks for reading! _


	20. Part XVIIII

_Part XVIIII  
_  
Eight horses appeared in the opening, and trotted down through the pathway that suddenly appeared in the enraged throng of Rwalla-Hunud. Howls of indignation rose in the air and the enemy, their war spears leveled with the ground, closed ranks once the riders had passed through. It appeared that more than one would die this night.  
  
Markunda-Tagwizult stood up and silenced her warriors with a flick of her hand, her brow furrowing with confusion at the untimely interruption. Curious, she stepped forward regardless of the whispered warnings from her officers and stared down at what appeared to be the leader of the riders. One eyebrow arched up in mild surprise when his hands gave the ancient sign for peace. Despite her warriors' growls of disapproval, she decided to grant the unexpected visitors an audience, silently commanding that they be allowed to approach the platform.  
  
"This is an outrage," Tizemet-Bahac fumed. "Their presence here goes against the code of the Hunud and I demand..."  
  
Markunda-Tagwizult almost smiled when she heard the warrior effectively silenced by a blow to her midsection from a superior. "Silence, young one. Watch and learn before you act," she hissed, her black gaze darting from man to man. What tribe were they from? Why were they here and most importantly, did they all harbor a wish to die?  
  
"As always, you are most wise, my queen," Tizemet-Bahac murmured.  
  
Markunda-Tagwizult ignored the warrior's simpering and turned her attention back to the puzzle that had just been abruptly presented. She returned the sign for peace and added an additional signal, smiling when her warriors crowded closer.  
  
"Who are you?" she called out to the riders.  
  
"Peace be upon you, Queen of the Rwalla-Hunud," the leader called back. "Ana ismee Commander Nabil al Fa'ud, Tribe of the Fifth. I have come for one of my own, and I demand the release of the warrior Reyhan Abbasi. He is innocent of any charges."  
  
Markunda-Tagwizult had to wait for the wild yelling from the crowd to die down before she could reply. The audacity of the warrior had impressed her and for a few more moments, she would let them live. "You are either very courageous or dim-witted to have come into my stronghold, Medjai, without an army of your own to protect you. As the lives of you and your men hang in the balance, convince me why I should comply with your demands."  
  
"Was he supposed to reveal our identities so soon?" Haytham muttered to Zaki and was immediately hushed.  
  
"Has the Rwalla-Hunud degenerated to the point where killing an innocent man has become sport?" Nabil asked as he pulled down his face covering, proudly displaying his sacred marks.  
  
A long hiss of hatred spiraled through the crowd and again, Markunda- Tagwizult signaled for silence. "Your warrior killed a Hunud, and I have a witness who saw the whole thing," she stated and gestured to Tizemet-Bahac.  
  
"Then we are at a stalemate, for I too have a witness who saw what happened to Tabari-Yervant. And I believe that his claim is vastly different from what you have been led to believe, oh mighty queen," Nabil replied.  
  
A sudden commotion came from behind Markunda-Tagwizult and she wasn't surprised to find Damya-Ultafa standing beside her. "There is a new witness? Someone else who saw my son die?" she asked.  
  
"There is no one else..." Tizemet-Bahac snarled. She started to say more but her companion silenced her with a shake of her head.  
  
Markunda-Tagwizult glanced back at the warrior and her eyes narrowed in thought. She turned back to the commander and warily watched as her warriors continued to grow restless; to deny the killing made them restless and edgy. "Where is your so-called witness, Medjai? Can he give undisputable proof and manage to restrain my warriors from demanding Abbasi's death?"  
  
Ardeth almost smiled as he looked at Nabil; he turned in his saddle and motioned for the last rider to come forward.  
  
"Aiwa," Nabil replied confidently.  
  
"The word of another Medjai holds no weight here!" someone from the platform shouted.  
  
"He is not Medjai," Ardeth stated with a triumphant smile.  
  
Nabil watched the queen's face as the rider removed his turban and covering; the haggard but defiant face of Uthmann-Dunoud was finally revealed.  
  
"My queen," he said and respectfully bowed his head.  
  
Markunda-Tagwizult sucked in a deep breath, and tried to regain her composure. The man who stood before her came from a respected family within the community, his years of service and devotion to the Hunud commendable. The validity of Tizemet-Bahac's report was now in jeopardy, but selfishly, Markunda-Tagwizult could only think of her own thwarted ambitions.  
  
"Tell me what you saw," the queen demanded as she bent down to listen to Uthmann-Dunoud's tale.  
  
Tizemet-Bahac chafed against the restraining arms of her friends and twisted free of their grasp. Enraged that her queen would debase herself to listen to a lowly man, she hurried over to the edge of the platform, her hand resting on the handle of her dagger concealed beneath her breastplate.  
  
"All lies! Stories conjured up by this weak specimen of a man who wishes to sabotage your sovereignty, my queen." Tizemet-Bahac jabbed a finger in the direction of the Medjai and the traitor. "He seeks to undermine your position and once again assert men as the primary..."  
  
"Silence!" Markunda-Tagwizult thundered and backhanded Tizemet-Bahac across the face. She ignored the stammered apology of the chastised warrior and brushed off her subordinates who clamored at her side. She stared down at the informant, and then looked up, her gaze sweeping across the temporarily subdued crowd. She could tell they were barely holding themselves in check; their restraint was slowly being shredded. The bare threads of it were all that remained and the only thing keeping the unexpected visitors alive.  
  
"Are you loyal to me?" she asked as she turned back to Uthmann-Dunoud. "Can you give me proof, so that I can appease my captains?"  
  
Uthmann-Dunoud nodded and opened his robes, carefully producing a dagger that he withdrew from its deep folds. He was aware that his actions could be perceived as a threat and wasn't surprised at the low growl of warning that rippled through the mob.  
  
"You know my family, Majesty, and of the long years we have faithfully served you. You know I speak only the truth, just as you know the owner of this dagger," he said.  
  
Markunda-Tagwizult uttered a curse and reached for the dagger along with Damya-Ultafa. She released her hold and stepped back, watching the other woman hold the weapon aloft; the flames of the fires caught the blade and made it wink evilly in the light.  
  
"This cannot be," Damya-Ultafa whispered hoarsely. Her horrified gaze darted from the weapon back to the owner as comprehension slowly infiltrated her mind. "No warrior leaves their weapon behind in the body of an enemy. My son was not a threat...he was..."  
  
"Impure," Tizemet-Bahac arrogantly stated and confronted the elder warrior. The chance to rectify her actions was at hand, and it was time to risk everything she and her companions had worked so hard for. She needed to prove to her queen that her motives were for the greater good, and not her personal gain. "That is my dagger, and I gladly admit it. Just as I willingly state for the record that I have started something others have dared not consider – the purging of our race. Tabari-Yervant was a product of weak blood; kill the offspring and the mother who birthed it!"  
  
She paused in her tirade and raised a fist into the air, rallying her supporters. They emerged from the back of the crowd and stood behind Tizemet-Bahac, believing that their show of solidarity would gain additional support. Heartened by the display, she turned back to her queen, and felt supremely confident that the dawn would bring change to the hierarchy. "He should have never accepted the friendship of a Tuareg and Medjai; he should have killed them. We need to rid our nation of those who harbor such foolish notions; we must cleanse ourselves before we can take our rightful place within the hierarchy of the desert. We need..."  
  
Tizemet-Bahac's eyes suddenly widened in surprise as blood started to seep from her mouth. She looked down at the barbed tip of a war spear protruding from her chest and she coughed, raising one trembling hand to touch the tip. It was jerked free and she crumpled to the ground with a small sigh, staring up with sightless eyes at the face of her killer.  
  
"I need you to be silent!" Damya-Ultafa snarled and lowered the bloody tip of the spear.  
  
Chaos erupted on the platform as other Hunud dragged Damya-Ultafa away from the queen, while her private guards sought to protect her from any more unexpected attacks. Markunda-Tagwizult allowed herself to be led away from the Medjai but she stopped after a few feet, eager to see the culmination of the evening.  
  
"Get Reyhan!" Ardeth shouted to Nabil as he pulled his weapon free; the Hunud rushed forward with an angry roar.  
  
Nabil urged his skittish horse over to the cross, and tried to control the nervous animal as he watched Muhjah-Aji spin around and start sawing on the ropes. His horse balked for a moment and reared back on its hind legs.  
  
She glanced around the arena and then turned back to the task at hand; there was so little time. But she had made a promise and would do everything in her power to keep it.  
  
Muhjah-Aji was going to save Reyhan...or die trying.

----------  
  
"What do you see?" Sharif asked. The mixed regiments of Medjai and Tuareg stood poised at the end of the Hunud stronghold, and had been reluctant observers to the events that had transpired over the past hour.  
  
"I see all hell breaking loose," Yousef exclaimed as he leaned forward in the saddle, adjusting the ancient telescope that had been confiscated from unsuspecting travelers several months ago. He lowered it and looked apologetically at Sharif and Makin. "It does not look good; however the element of surprise is our advantage."  
  
"Tell the warriors to hold their positions until we gave the command," Sharif ordered a nearby warrior. "We will sweep down from the side and surprise the Hunud, cutting them off from the chase. I pray to Allah that we are in time."

----------  
  
_**a/n** – okay so I admit it, I am evil and have a reputation to live up too...thus it would appear that I've gone and left another cliffie. I'm bad. Plus I'm listening to the first LOTR cd when the Wraith's appear...Heh heh On to the shout-outs:  
  
**Karri **– got your email, will respond and totally understand. Thanks! ;-) And yes, eeviill eeevilll cliffie from the evil one. Lol  
  
**Dawn369** – glad you liked this chapter, now tell me are you ready for the ride? IE Ardeth et al fleeing the Hunud? And just when I think I have Berin figured out, he goes and does something like taking care of Drevick...darn noble warrior. Lol Thanks for reading! ;-)  
  
**Nakhti** – I have a chant for you but oddly enough, it's a composition of Elvish and Arabic, something I conjured up for a pending story. It calls for a wraith, much like the one's on LOTR. Mmmmm, maybe I shouldn't give it out. Hee hee And no, I'm not Hunud but you may think of something else to call me when I write a follow-up story to this called, "Shadows and Light." Ardeth's life is in danger from a most unlikely assassin and no, it's not the Hunud coming for revenge. Lol I see you've updated HN....bounces OooOoOOo...I shall go read and review as soon as I can.  
  
**Dreamy **– ask and ye shall receive. Thanks for reading._ [_waves]  
_  
_**The kidd Mdd** – aaah, scarabs all gone now, since I used "Scarab-Be-Gone" lol Berin is the bomb but I hope you'll still think kindly of me when..erm, never mind. The Hunud are some seriously twisted sisters and the fate of Reyhan's shoulder hangs in the balance, like his life. Guess you'll have to keep reading to see what happens, eh? [eg] Thanks for reading!  
  
**Ladybug1** – I'm glad you like the boys interaction, and how they relieved the tension. That carried over to the challenge you did, and I had to add on...I just had too! Lol I'm also quite pleased that your happy with Kedar et al...and perhaps after this story ends, I'll send them on a nice relaxing vacation. [eyes sequel to SOT]...um maybe not. lol_


	21. Part XX

_Part XX_

"Yalla! Nimshe! Go and I will follow...yalla!" Nabil shouted to Ardeth as he brought his mount under control. He kicked its sides and rode over to the cross, determined to free his brother. He almost recoiled in shock when he saw the treacherous assassin attempting to free Reyhan, and was having trouble cutting through the ropes that held him so cruelly to the cross. There was little time to question Muhjah-Aji's strange actions and Nabil felt the first icy fingers of fear grip his heart-had Reyhan passed?

Ardeth and Kedar lingered for a few precious moments, ensuring that Zaki, Haytham, Talib and Solman rode out first through the oncoming tidal wave of Hunud. They pulled out their scimitars and slashed at those who foolishly came too close, pushing back the black tide of evil that slowly reached for them with skeletal fingers.

"Nabil!" Ardeth shouted, stubbornly waiting a moment longer. That hesitancy, or loyalty to a friend, almost cost Ardeth his life and he narrowly missed being impaled by a well thrown spear.

"Ardeth, for the love of Allah...ride!" Kedar bellowed as he jabbed at an advancing Hunud. He glanced at Nabil, his worry evident in his gaze, and then uttered a curse since he had little choice; he kicked his horse into a gallop.

Nabil met Kedar's worried gaze and a silent understanding passed between them; Nabil would not leave without Reyhan, even if it meant forfeiting his life.

"Go!" Nabil ordered and pulled his weapon free. He jumped down from his horse and ran towards Reyhan just as Muhjah-Aji freed him from the ropes, his apparently lifeless body crumpling to the ground.

"Peace be upon you, ya ukh, and may we both live through this night," Ardeth muttered. His urged Sabeeh forward and plunged through the narrowing pass, his whirling scimitar singing its song of death.

----------

"Counselor Thias, this is highly unusual to demand an audience with our chieftain so late at night. I humbly request that you grant him the rest he needs, and come back in the morning, when all of us will see matters in a different light."

Abdul-Hafiz never considered himself to be a strong man, and had often lamented that his lack of height had targeted him for ridicule from his peers when he was younger. But what the older man lacked in strength, he made up for in tenacity and perseverance.

He hid his smile as Thias muttered and fumed, pacing in front of him as he expounded on what he felt was a lack of respect given to him by Ardeth as well as the entire warrior sect. He whined and complained, resorted to thinly veiled threats and finally surrendered when Abdul-Hafiz still refused to grant him admission to Ardeth's chambers.

"My sources tell me that Commander al Fa'ud has ridden out from the city with a small group of warriors," Thias purred, thinking to catch the other counselor in a lie. "We both know that the Elders had agreed to release Abbasi into the Rwalla-Hunud's custody and yet, that warrior has suddenly disappeared. I am merely acting on behalf of the Elders to advise our chieftain of these disturbing events; obviously the treaty is now void."

"Disturbing events indeed, Counselor, and news that I will gladly inform Ardeth of...in the morning," Abdul-Hafiz crossed his arms over his chest and continued barring the door. "Is there anything else you wish to pass along?"

Thias growled something unintelligible and motioned for his cohorts to follow him, storming down the hallway. Suddenly he stopped and pivoted around on his heel, glaring at Abdul-Hafiz. "I know what al Fa'ud is doing, and I shall make certain the Elders know of his traitorous acts in the morning. And we shall see matters in a most revealing light."

Abdul-Hafiz leaned against the door and expelled a shaky breath; that had been too close. Loyal to Ardeth and acting as more of a friend than advisor, he would do whatever was necessary to keep his king's covert actions private. And he would gladly risk his position as counselor to do so.

He glanced through the tall windows that dominated one side of the hallway and gazed at the full moon, praying that all of the missing warriors returned before sunrise.

Or else the light would be very revealing indeed.

----------

Zaki and Haytham raced out of the arena as the gap at the other end began filling up with Hunud; the chance for freedom was dwindling away and the warriors pushed their horses to run faster.

Solman and Talib had been following them but were several yards back. Zaki risked a glance over his shoulder and cursed a moment later when the two warriors were cut off by the rallying Hunud. He shouted at Haytham and pulled back on the reins, turning his horse around so he could charge into the battle.

Zaki bellowed his battle cry and rushed the nearest Hunud, the metal of his sword clanging against the tip of a spear as he deflected it. He guided his horse to ride through the enemy and scatter them, hoping it would help Solman and Talib.

He rode into the jaws of death and relished the encounter, believing that the Medjai would prevail. They were honoring their warrior oath and protecting one another with their lives. It made Zaki feel invincible and he swung his blade around him, spraying the enemy's warm blood into the air.

----------

Muhjah-Aji wrapped her arms around Reyhan's limp body, trying to stop his fall to the ground. She would have toppled over from his heavy weight but a strong arm snaked around her waist, supporting her. She looked up into the face of the commanding warrior whose stormy gray eyes reminded her of Reyhan, and blinked in surprise.

"Touch my brother again, hi iblis [she devil], and I will cut out your black heart," Nabil growled. He struck the side of Muhjah-Aji's face with the hilt of his weapon, and watched dispassionately as she lost her grip, reeling backwards.

"I can help you lift him onto your horse," Muhjah-Aji cried as she stumbled back from the blow. She regained her balance and lunged for Reyhan's legs, grabbing them around the ankles.

"Let go of him!" Nabil shouted and twisted his body, trying to free Reyhan from Muhjah-Aji's clutches; she stubbornly retained her balance. "I need no help from you."

"You have no choice, stubborn man! There isn't much time!" Muhjah-Aji ranted. "Accept my help or you both die."

They came to an abrupt stop by the animal's side, and Nabil struggled with Reyhan's body as he glared at the assassin; she ducked beneath the horse's neck and ran around the other side. She eagerly beckoned for him to lift his brother over the saddle. Suspicious from her actions, but realizing that the Hunud were coming, and getting dangerously closer, he had no choice but to accept her aid. Questioning it would come later.

Suddenly Nabil cried out and almost dropped Reyhan when a spear pierced his side; the tip of it protruded from the front of his robes. Agony raced through his body but he refused to relinquish his hold on Reyhan, even as the spear was jerked free. He awkwardly whirled around to face his death, and held Reyhan closer as the gloating Hunud prepared to drive her spear into his heart.

The death blow never came. The warrior's weapon tumbled from her hands and in the next moment, she sank to her knees revealing Uthmann-Dunoud standing behind her with a bloody sword.

Nabil shook his head to clear his muddled thoughts as he bravely fought off the pain and the encroaching darkness that threatened to consume him. His world had dwindled down to this moment in time, and Nabil would do anything to save his only brother. He clenched his jaw and focused on getting Reyhan to safety...all that mattered was Reyhan...all that mattered was getting him out alive.

"Together," Uthmann-Dunoud yelled as he rushed over to Nabil's side and helped him carry Reyhan to his horse.

Nabil stiffened when Muhjah-Aji joined them and he grudgingly accepted her help. Moments later he was mounted with Reyhan's body unceremoniously slung over the saddle; Uthmann-Dunoud steadied him as Muhjah-Aji kept most of the Hunud at bay.

"Go, ride!" Muhjah-Aji shouted as she parried the attack from one of her sister warriors. "There is no time... just go!"

Uthmann-Dunoud offered Nabil a faint smile and before the warrior could reply, slapped the horse's hindquarters and sent the animal running. Taking a deep breath for courage, he turned around and faced the oncoming hoard of Hunud, holding his arms out to the sides as if in surrender.

----------

Markunda-Tagwizult pulled free of her protectors and ran to the edge of the platform, a scream of rage erupting from her throat as she watched her prized warrior being spirited away. "No!" she shouted and spun around, the fires of hatred burning in her eyes. "Send your squads," she commanded her officers, pointing to where the Medjai had gone. "Ride my sisters, hunt them down and kill them but bring me Ardeth Bay. I want him alive so we can sacrifice him in place of his warrior and embellish our armor with his blood."

Damya-Ultafa bravely faced her queen and shook her head, Tizemet-Bahac's dagger still clutched in her hand. "When will this end?" she asked softly and then turned, gesturing to the crowd that swarmed over the arena below, flowing out like a black river to the other end. "The Medjai was right – have we become?"

"We are the Rwalla-Hunud," Markunda-Tagwizult said as she swept an arm across the encampment. "We are the bringers of chaos and death. And we will do what is needed; Tizemet-Bahac was partially right. We need to cleanse our race and we start with the traitors down there. Bring them to me or have you forgotten your oath?"

Damya-Ultafa shook her head and backed away from her queen, unaware that others were voicing the same question. She chose several warriors to accompany her and slowly made her way down to the arena, searching for Muhjah-Aji and Uthmann-Dunoud.

Oddly enough, they were nowhere to be found...

----------

Igmi stayed off to one side of the arena, and was quite glad that for once, his presence went undetected. Usually he was greeted with looks of disdain and wrinkled noses; it wasn't his fault that his clothes smelled like garbage.

He stayed in the shadows, and had followed his intuition that Muhjah-Aji would somehow need him tonight. And he had watched with wide, frightened eyes as the Rwalla-Hunud viciously attacked the intruders that had dared to disrupt their ceremony. He felt pity for the retreating Medjai but they weren't his concern at the moment – the young woman he had befriended was.

Through the chaos, he searched for Muhjah-Aji, and he offered several more prayers that she would somehow come out of the melee safe and unharmed. He cringed at the thought of her death and when it appeared that she might have perished, Igmi started to turn away with a heavy heart.

Suddenly two figures dressed in dirty brown robes staggered from crowd, supporting one another as they ran. One of them stumbled and fell, the hood of the robe slipping back to reveal the pale face of infamous assassin.

"Muhjah-Aji," Igmi breathed in horror. She was holding her stomach with one arm, and as he ran toward her, the blood from the wound trickled down one leg. "I am here, little one. I am here."

Uthmann-Dunoud pushed back his hood and gave the older man a tired but triumphant smile. "See Muhjah? Allah is most merciful; he has given us a way out of this purgatory."

Muhjah-Aji was beyond listening to Uthmann-Dunoud and she willingly caved into her heart's desire, reliving the precious memories of the time spent with Reyhan. Her legs gave out and she collapsed, never hearing Igmi's crooned words of comfort. Instead she heard another deep masculine voice that spoke in her heart and mind, and she almost smiled despite the pain. Reyhan...how his eyes would sparkle with happiness when they were together...

She never felt Igmi sweep her up into his arms; she felt again the sweet and all too brief kiss Reyhan had given her; tenderly invading her mouth, his fingers caressing her cheek...

"No, I don't...like you," she whispered to the ghost of Reyhan that lived in her heart.

"What is she saying?" a disembodied voice asked.

"I do not know," a second voice replied as the last word faded away.

"I...love you," Muhjah-Aji declared before she passed out.

----------

Nabil pressed his horse to run faster, and risked a glance over his shoulder; his greatest fear was instantly confirmed. The Hunud were pursuing him with a determined vengeance, the black tide of evil swarming behind him in wave after wave. He protectively bent over Reyhan's body as several spears arced through the air, thudding into the ground in front of him.

He jerked on the reins, pulling his horse to the right; another spear sailed past his shoulder, ripping a long jagged opening down the sleeve of his robe. He tugged on the reins again, and his horse dodged to the left. A Hunud appeared by his side, her eyes gleaming with the lust for battle from within the dark confines of her helmet. Nabil swore they were glowing red, and with a shout, swung his scimitar, knocking her out of the saddle.

Two more Hunud took her place as the horses raced along the sand, each awkwardly maneuvering their spears in such close space. Nabil jabbed his weapon again, but this time he missed; two Hunud appeared by his other side, the grace and agility in which they rode their animals almost enviable.

A spear slashed in front of his face and Nabil barely parried it; he pushed it back only to have another one run down the length of his arm. It ripped a deep furrow into his skin, and Nabil almost dropped his weapon from the numbing pain that raced up and down the appendage.

The Hunud closest to him started laughing manically and drew her arm back for the killing stroke...only it never came. A sleek shafted arrow embedded itself into her chest and she fell back a moment later.

Nabil shook his head in disbelief and looked up to the side of the hill; Medjai and Tuareg were swarming down the sides, effectively cutting off the wave of Hunud and engaging them.

His pursuers fell back and Nabil felt his horse respond with a burst of speed. He felt the smallest amount of hope blossom within his heart, and believed he was going to make it. Cruelly that hope shriveled up and died like a fragile flower exposed to the harsh desert sun; there was a battle being fought ahead of him.

Hoping to catch the enemy off guard, Nabil gave his battle cry as he plunged through the teaming mass of horses and warriors. Ardeth, Kedar, Zaki, Talib, Solman and Haytham had been fighting for their lives, since a small group of Hunud had caught them after they left the arena.

Nabil's unexpected appearance gave them the advantage that they had needed, and they rallied as the cry of the Medjai rang through the air. Behind Nabil came the reinforcements, a thousand angry warriors bearing down on the outnumbered Hunud; the time for reckoning was at hand.

Nabil's lathered horse thundered through the fight, and finally broke out into the open desert. Knowing the animal was near exhaustion, Nabil guided it towards the one place he knew of that could help Reyhan since his brother was now beyond the normal realm of healing.

He rode towards the temple of Ma'at, determined to beg, plead or threaten the goddess into saving Reyhan. She was the goddess of justice, and of right; surely she would listen to Nabil's heartfelt petition and aid him in bringing his brother back to the living.

Nabil's faith had been sorely tested over the years, and he secretly harbored the fear that the gods had forgotten him. For why else would he be given so many trials and tribulations?

He refused to listen to the small voice that whispered in his head that the gods wouldn't listen to him, and would ignore his prayer. He refused to think of any other scenarios except to visualize the future where Reyhan was alive and well...

...and they were finally a family.

----------

_**A/N** – Normally I'd like to do a nice little paragraph here, and perhaps ramble on about the daily and mundane routine of my life. Instead, I'm going to take JeanB's review and answer some of her key questions. That way I can refresh all of the reader's minds and perhaps invoke further discussion, if not encourage further thought. ;)_

_**JeanB** – first and foremost, shukran for the review. Considering that you're a Harry Potter fan, I am most grateful that you slipped from your favorite genre and hopped over to the Mummy fandom to read. _

_Copying from your review, **you wrote**: "__How did they come to know each other? I don't believe they just happened to stroll along one another one day because they lived in such close proximity... "_

_The idea of my story was to have three young boys meet one day, a Tuareg, a Medjai and a Rwalla-Hunud [fictional desert tribe]; I explained in the first few paragraphs how they met, and despite the animosity between their nations, became friends. The friendship blossomed despite prejudice and hatred, a concept I love exploring. Maybe I'm taking this comment too literally but I never implied in my story that they were strolling through the vast Sahara one day and just happened to bump into one another. ;-)_

_**You wrote**: "I wonder if the Rwalla-Hunud were able to live in peace withe the Tuareg and the Med-jai? They seem to have as many prejudices as the other way around and the fact that they are a matriarchaic sociaty only shrinks the possibilities of a truce. How you described them, they seem to be warmongering and powerhungry. Whether it is from a misguided sense of insecurity or from a addiction to power or something else entirely, I cannot tell. I also highly doubt that all of them think that way, it just doesn't sit well with my view of humankind. There are always some parcefists, in every society but what the society does with them and how they carry themselfs varies greatly. I hope you find a way to end your story with as little bloodshed as possible but I deem that near impossible... A pity."_

_The Rwalla-Hunud, a fictional matriarchate society, is basically Amazons having a really bad hair day, or terminal case of PMS. Yes, they are power hungry and warmongering, considering the previous chapters I've had them riding around the desert destroying towns. They follow a queen who is addicted to power, and determined to rule the Sahara at any cost - for doesn't absolute power corrupt absolutely? As for the pacifists, two characters were created to show that even in this war loving nation, there are those who do not believe in their queen's bloody vision [Uthmann-Dunoud] and have let one emotion change their life forever [Muhjah-Aji fell in love with Reyhan, a Medjai and enemy]. Murmurings of discontent from the queen's following in the past two chapters should have clearly amplified that this society does indeed have its pacifists_.

_As for the story ending with as little bloodshed as possible, sorry my friend, but I can't guarantee that. Bloodshed is part of my warrior's lives-they honor their oaths with blade, bone and blood. I counteract this bleak aspect of their lives by giving them adventures that explore the boundaries of brotherly love, friendship, and perhaps finding the love of their lives. While not realistic, I do believe in happy endings; sometimes the road to happiness is filled with bumps. _

_And finally, yes I do possess a rudimentary knowledge of Arabic and can speak it. I wish I had more time to perfect my technique, and would honestly love to let those R's rrrRRrrroll off my tongue like Ardeth does. ;-) LOL Again, you have my thanks for reading and more importantly leaving a review that sparked such a long response from me. _

_**Karri **– to make amends for the adrenaline rush prior to sleep, I threw in a longer chapter this time. Thanks for reading, and I'm making my rounds on FF – I need to see what's happening with your wonderful story, "The Bitterness of Mortality." _

_**Nakhti** – since you're so cute, here's more. LOL Sorry if there wasn't too much of Ardeth in this, but I promise in the scenes to come, you may just chew what's left of your fingernails down to the quick. As for the LOTR soundtrack, for some reason I skipped over buying the second one...I may just have to now. ;-) _

_**Dawn369** – all hell has indeed broken loose and things won't settle down for some time to come. The Queen of the Hunud will not be the only thing the warriors have to fear...thanks for reading. ;-)_

_**SerenaFehr **– Muhjah-Aji's love for Reyhan is quite possibly the one thing that will keep her alive. And yes, after reading this, Muhjah-Aji did do the right thing. smiles Thanks for catching up with your reviews, btw. _

_**The Kid Mdd** – if I never mentioned it, I once again want to thank you for emailing me and asking about my fanfic. To reply to someone who reads my work is an honor, and a task that was delightful to perform. As for Berin, his actions will be something you'll have to read and form an opinion of your own. All I can say is his adventure continues in the next story, and it may not start out as a happy one...btw, do you want a new seatbelt? LOL_


	22. Part XXI

_Part XXI_

"Who aids the Medjai?" Markunda-Tagwizult asked in a deceptively calm voice. She stood at the edge of the platform and surveyed the almost empty arena with disdain and disappointment. Riders were coming in bearing disturbing reports that the warriors had broken through the formations of the Hunud, reaching the open desert with relative ease.

One of the captains stepped forward and nervously cleared her throat. "It would appear that the Tuareg are in league with them, a development we had not anticipated in our preparations for battle. Their involvement caught us unaware."

"We need to withdraw, Majesty, before the casualties are too great," another captain boldly suggested.

Markunda-Tagwizult's lip curled back in a defiant sneer; she hated that the fact that the captain's suggestion may be the wisest course of action at the moment. "Where was Suleyman-Tansu's patrol last seen?"

"South by southwest," the captain replied, and then looked uneasily at her fellow officers before adding, "But that was several hours ago. She had planned on engaging a group of wounded Medjai in the hopes of capturing a commander. We have not heard from her since."

Markunda-Tagwizult turned around and faced her subordinates, fury contorting her features as she realized that the Hunud's ascension to power had been thwarted...for now. "Sound the call for a retreat. We will journey back to our camp in the Western Desert to regroup and plan."

"What of the escaping Medjai?" someone asked.

"Let them go," Markunda-Tagwizult waved her hand. "Where are Muhjah-Aji and Uthmann-Dunoud?"

"Missing. We think they both have been killed and their bodies spirited away by the mob."

"My queen," a young lieutenant asked as she stepped forward. "Are we surrendering? The Medjai will win while we go back into hiding like cowards because of the Tuareg involvement? Our rightful place is as rulers of the desert; your dream is what encourages and guides us. Have the Rwalla-Hunud given up?"

"No," Markunda-Tagwizult hissed and spun around, shaking her fist in fury at the heavens above. "We will merely bide our time, as we take this lesson learned and analyze it. We will pray to the gods of old to strengthen us once again, and we will emerge reborn and renewed to our cause."

The officers and companions eagerly followed their queen as they exited the platform and hurried over to the nearby horses, gleaning hope as her passionate speech continued.

Markunda-Tagwizult leaped into the saddle and gestured for her war spear; once in her hand she raised it to the night sky. "We will dedicate ourselves to the destruction of the Medjai...we will renew our quest to be the undisputed rulers of the Sahara, and we will be unstoppable. We will never rest until all of our enemies have been vanquished. Whether by brute force or black magic, the Rwalla-Hunud will return and the earth will tremble from our fury!"

The Hunud mounted as their excited battle cries filled the air. They circled their queen, believing in her evil vision and exalting in the power that was theirs and theirs alone. As one entity, they kicked their horses forward and rode away from the arena, never glancing backwards to see how those left behind fared against the Tuareg.

----------

Haytham slashed at the tip of a spear that came dangerously close and wheeled his horse around, its flanks slamming into another Hunud mount. The rider toppled and was trampled beneath his horse's razor sharp hooves. He had little liking for how he executed his parries and blows; all honor in this battle had left long ago. Survival for him and his fellow Medjai had helped shred the persona of the civilized man as Haytham fought for his life, and he used any means at his disposal.

Grimly he blocked another Hunud's jab, and urged his horse forward, letting the animal's momentum carry his blade deep into the enemy's armor, piercing the heart. He yanked it free in a crimson shower as he rode forward a few feet before he was once again surrounded by the relentless black riders.

He whirled his horse around again, succeeding in keeping them at bay for a few moments as he searched for Solman. The younger warrior was faring no better than he. He had been trapped by four Hunud and was valiantly fighting his way out.

Haytham watched as Solman's horse lunged ahead and raced for a few yards, giving him the first glimmer of hope that one of them would survive this night. Suddenly the horse stumbled, and went down on its knees. Solman flew over its neck and landed on the ground, slamming the back of his head against the hard unyielding earth.

"La!" Haytham shouted in disbelief, and felt a wave of rage wash over him. Not Solman. Not the gentle, simple thinking giant of a warrior he had befriended in the past few days. He couldn't let the Hunud take away a young man who held so much promise. He swung his scimitar around him in a deadly arc. He kicked his horse into a gallop, and brutally pushed his way through his attackers even as he felt several sharp stings on his arms and side. He leaned forward in the saddle as he rode to Solman's aid, determined to save the young warrior at the cost of his own life.

Suddenly Haytham found himself surrounded by an odd mixture of Medjai and Tuareg riders; he blinked in surprise when he saw none other than Sharif riding beside him. They dispersed the enemy and acted as a protective shield, guiding him away from Solman and the battle.

"I cannot leave Solman!" Haytham shouted to his escort and tried to turn back.

----------

As Nabil's exhausted horse raced across the desert, his Hunud pursuers gradually fell back, leaving the commander to continue his ride alone and unfettered.

Nabil felt light-headed from blood loss and fought to remain conscious and in the saddle, his hand resting on Reyhan's bloody back. His eyes slid closed for a moment as he feverishly prayed that he hadn't failed...that he hadn't been too late...and that by the grace of Allah, Reyhan still lived.

_Please be alive...please be alive...cannot be dead...I will not lose him...not now...please be alive..._

Concentrating on finding the temple, Nabil remained blissfully unaware that he was being trailed by two of his warrior brothers.

----------

Like a mirage shimmering in the desert heat, the Rwalla-Hunud had disappeared from the desert leaving no trace of their existence behind. A cloud had passed over the moon and the wind had blown in, whisking away the last trace of the dark riders and committing them to the memory of those who had fought them.

Haytham sat on the ground and cradled Solman's body in his arms, his dark eyes bright with unshed tears. He gently rocked the warrior back and forth, crooning soft words of comfort as he struggled to come to terms with Solman's passing.

Zaki and the rest of the warriors stood around him in a protective circle, granting him the privacy he needed to expel his grief. And then Talib turned and bent down, gently pushing the dark hair away from Solman's face, his sapphire colored eyes filled with a depthless sorrow.

"Solman, ya ukh," Talib's voice broke from his grief. "You have fought bravely and well this night." He stood up and backed away a few steps to allow the others to come forth.

Zaki bent down and touched the top of Solman's head. "We will honor your memory and tell the generations to come of your courage, ya saHib."

One by one they came and paid their respects to a fallen brother, until Haytham was the left alone. Struggling with his turbulent thoughts, he clenched his jaw against the sorrow that engulfed his heart. "Rest and be at peace, ya ukh," he whispered hoarsely. "You have done well this night."

Haytham gestured to Zaki that it was time, and the warriors helped carry Solman to a horse, gently laying him over the saddle. They would cover the body with a spare robe and place Solman's scimitar on top as a sign of the warrior's passing. As Haytham pulled the weapon free from its sheath, he lifted his face to the heavens, closed his eyes and began to pray. "Laa ilaaha il-lal-laah..."

"Why...has the world...turned upside down?" a familiar voice weakly asked.

Haytham sputtered in surprise. He bent down and peered up at Solman's face, calling for aid a few moments later, unable to hide his smile. The warriors gently removed Solman from the horse, and carefully laid him on the ground so that his head rested in Haytham's lap. They joyously crowded around Haytham, touching Solman's head or shoulder as he ripped a small section of cloth from his robe. Tenderly he treated the wound on the back of Solman's head, blotting the blood from his neck.

"The world...is back," Solman smiled faintly up at Haytham.

Haytham chuckled and nodded his head. "So it is, ya zRir bero, so it is."

"The...others? Did Nabil...rescue Reyhan?"

Haytham remained silent, and glanced over at Zaki, grimly realizing that he was unable to provide an answer.

----------

Berin's arrival in the Tuareg settlement was an unprecedented occurrence and despite the late hour, people rushed forward to see the massive warrior ride through their streets. Their shock and elation in seeing their own warriors return abruptly changed to horror and disbelief when they saw the limp body of the leader's son resting in the strong arms of the Medjai.

They followed the procession as it made its way towards the main tent, their anger lending them false strength; they hissed and booed, jeering at the lone Medjai while some of them threw stones. Some of the missiles accurately found their mark but seemed to easily bounce off the broad back of the warrior, fueling the crowd's anger.

Berin remained oblivious to the mob's hatred of him, and he stayed focused on his only concern- delivering Drevick to a healer. He braced himself against the pain that radiated from his shoulder, and the small nicks and cuts on his back. He stoically endured all of the torture that the crowd put him through, and kept his blurred vision trained on the leader's tent as it grew closer.

A bellow of rage suddenly pierced the night, and the crowd stopped tormenting Berin, changing their attention to the impressive sight of their leader storming out of his tent. Berin brought his horse to a halt, and awkwardly slipped from the saddle with Drevick still in his arms. Asking for no assistance and expecting none to be given, Berin weaved his way over to the chieftain, his dark eyes blazing with a mixture of pain, anger and exhaustion.

Lewnis took several deep breaths, his nostrils flaring from his exertions as he struggled to contain his rage and grief. He didn't dare glance down at the pale face of his son; he kept his obsidian gaze pinned to the Medjai who had dared to breach his encampment. He clenched his fists as the warrior slowly and methodically bent down, placing Drevick's body on the ground. The golden light from the torches bathed the Medjai in an eerie glow, accentuating the dark stain one shoulder.

Lewnis' gaze skimmed over the warrior's ripped and dirty robes, his disheveled appearance and the fatigue that showed in the long, muscular lines of the warriors' body. Vaguely Lewnis acknowledged the raw, almost predatory power that emanated from the man, and grudgingly respected the fact that he stood several inches taller than himself. When the warrior straightened up and boldly met Lewnis' gaze without flinching, he reacted without regard for the consequences.

"Explain your presence here, Medjai," he tersely commanded.

"Explanations can wait, Drevick needs a healer," Berin replied.

"I know what _my _son needs," Lewnis snarled and called for a group of men to take Drevick away. He turned back to the warrior, and stared at his bloody shoulder. "You came to his aid, despite your own injuries and the danger of riding into an enemy's camp?"

"Aiwa," came the simple reply.

Lewnis' eyes narrowed in speculation and he walked towards Berin, until they stood only a few inches apart. A silent challenge rose up between them, and Lewnis vaguely heard the crowd's gasp of surprise. "Not one for giving lengthy speeches, are you? I should kill you now and just be done with it. Your body will be cut and quartered, the pieces scattered over the desert from Dorginarti to Cairo so that no one will ever know your fate."

"Do what you wish," Berin murmured, fighting against a sudden wave of dizziness. "It is my fault for believing that Drevick's sire would act as honorably as his son."

Lewnis' lips curled into a sneer as he peered into Berin's face. "Do you want to die?" he asked incredulously, unnerved by the emptiness he found in the warrior's eyes.

"I wish to leave, having fulfilled my obligation to your son and the truce between our nations..."

"One that was not sanctified by Tuareg leaders," Lewnis snapped.

A grim smiled danced across Berin's face. "Debating issues from the past only serves to prolong my stay here," he said and turned away from Lewnis. He concentrated on reaching his horse as he heard the leader's enraged shout, and the rallying cry from the crowd. He focused on placing one foot in front of the other, and reached out to touch his horse's bridle, expecting to feel a sword plunge into his back at any moment.

Instead he felt the touch of a hand, light and yet somehow comforting, gently prompting him to turn around. He blinked in surprise and stared down into the beautiful face of a woman, marveling at the steely determination blazing in her almond shaped eyes.

"My husband's temper has all but blinded him to the fact that you have returned our son to us; an act that will never be forgotten," she said and placed her hand on Berin's forearm in a silent appeal. "Please, let me have someone care for your shoulder. We can feed and water your horse, as well as replenish your supplies, before you return to your citadel."

Berin placed a large hand over Tella's smaller one, gently rebuffing her generosity as he struggled to hear over the roaring in his ears. "Shukran...for your kindness but I must...return to my people," he said with a faint smile.

Gallantly Berin took Tella's hand and placed a light kiss on the knuckles, giving her a slightly stiff bow of respect. He was well aware that Lewnis had reached her side and that both of them watched as he climbed into the saddle; did his body sway too much, causing Tella to call out to him in concern?

He gathered the reins in one hand, letting his other arm hang limply down by his side; all sensation in the appendage had vanished long ago. With a formal nod to the formidable Tuareg leader, Berin kicked his horse into a gallop and rode away from the encampment.

As the dark spots dancing in his peripheral vision grew larger, Berin mistakenly guided the animal away from the Medjai city, and towards the open desert...towards Cairo.

Sadly, his disappearance wouldn't be noted for many days to come...

----------

Thias stood in the center of the room with his hands on his hips and stared in amazement as the wounded continued to flow into the healer's building. His gaze slashed over to Abdul-Hafiz who was talking to several of the Elders, undoubtedly reassuring the old men that the city was not under attack despite the Tuareg presence outside its walls.

"Hafiz is smoothing over any concerns the Elders may have regarding the suspicious disappearance of al Fa'ud," Itosh confirmed as he glanced at a nearby pallet and cringed from the sight of the bloody body of the warrior that lay on it.

"Typically they ignore the danger that his actions have put our people in, and bask under Hafiz's glowing confidence that all is calm and peaceful." Thias shook his head, disgusted at what he considered preferential treatment continually exhibited by Ardeth towards a select group of warriors.

Itosh snorted. "All _is_ calm and peaceful – I thought you were aware that the Rwalla-Hunud have left our borders."

"A fact, along with so many others, that apparently my fellow counselors neglected to inform me of," Thias snapped. He turned to his cohort and grabbed his arm, dragging Itosh farther away from anyone who could possibly hear their ponderings. "Go and search for Ardeth, do not report back to me unless you have found him, or can give me further proof of the commander's treachery. I want Nabil al Fa'ud ousted as commander, or I will find more unsavory methods of removing him from that position."

"A position that you have promised to me, correct?" Itosh said as he watched Thias walk away. "Remember our pact!"

Thias ignored him as he approached the Elders and Abul-Hafiz, pasting a cheery and reassuring smile on his face.

----------

_**A/N** – As Nakhti had pointed out, there is a flub regarding Nabil's religious beliefs in the previous chapter, and for that I apologize. I hope to alleviate any further confusion in the future ones regarding the Medjai's religious preference, while at the same time convey how desperate Nabil wants to save Reyhan's life. He's so desperate that he'll plead for any divine intervention, from any means...including petitioning a goddess of old to help Reyhan. After all, Reyhan is Nabil's only brother, and he would do anything to save his sibling...anything. Hope that made sense since I'm riding high on cold medicine right now. Lol On to the shout-outs:_

_**Karri – '**Not out of the woods yet' is quite an apt phrase to describe the coming chapters. Thanks for reading! ;-)_

_**Nakhti – **As I mentioned earlier, there is a small flub in regards to Nabil's religious beliefs, and yes I do base my Medjai on a loose mixture of Islam and Egyptian. Hopefully I can clear up this flub, or at least write a paragraph or two that will make sense out of Nabil's actions. As for Ardeth...nothing will happen to him as of yet. Heh heh _

_**JeanB – **Welcome back! Glad to see you dropped by for a while...LOL Igmi was introduced in chapter 13, with a quick view into his background, and why he works for the Hunud. And as you may have just read, the fate of Berin now hangs in the balance. Ask and ye shall receive, Drevick will appear again...thanks for the cookie. ;-) hands back brownie and box of tissues just in case heh heh_

_**Dawn369 – **Hopefully I didn't make you fall off your computer chair, although you almost had me doing that with the last few chapters of "Salvation." ;-) And you might want to take another deep breath and hold it, there's more to come. Thanks for reading! _

_**SerenaFehr - **gasp Are you a Rwalla-Hunud?!? My sister...erm, never mind. LOL Yes let's hope for a miracle and that the goddess Ma'at will listen to a man whose all but lost his faith. Thanks for all your hard work as my beta. ;-)_

_**The Kid Mdd - **note to self: buy bottle of hair color and send to kid Mdd I like your comments about Muhjah-Aji, and while you may not be inclined to trust her, in the end she did what no Hunud has ever done when it came to the fate of an enemy. She fell in love and saved his life. She had to, if not Reyhan's death would become her own, and she would always wonder what might have been. Now promise me you don't hate me for Berin's fate that is questionable at the moment. It all happens for a reason...and Berin's heart finally needs to heal. Glad to hear about the new seatbelt...lol Thanks for reading! ;-)_

_**Ladybug1 – **Soooo do I put the warning before or after the chapter? Lol And it seems most of you liked Nabil giving Muhjah-Aji her just dues**, **imagine that. Thias is Nabil's arch enemy and he will do whatever it takes to discredit our gray eyed warrior; he's a snake and that should be watched very carefully. And thanks again for loaning Kedar, Zaki, Talib and Haytham; I enjoy writing them very much and my crew loves hanging around with them. Shukran ya sahib!!! _


	23. Part XXII

_XXII _

"Commander ibn Sakhr, you must allow the laudanum to work so I can stitch the wound on your shoulder closed," Jarille said and leaned down, staring into the dark sable colored eyes of the warrior, pleased to see he was fighting to remain conscious.

Jericho tried to roll over onto his back, anxious to see how his warriors were faring, afraid that Dharr and Emir had succumbed to their wounds. He tried to push up on his elbows but the pain in his shoulder was too much to bear, and he collapsed with a defeated groan moments later. "Tell me…" he rasped. "Ajab…I must know…"

Jarille smiled kindly at the commander, and pointed to a pallet a few feet away. "My helpers tell me that Emir is resting comfortably, despite a low grade fever, and we anticipate a complete recovery. Madjy's wound has been stitched and is being wrapped with a charcoal and linseed poultice while…"

"Dharr?" Jericho whispered fearfully as he laid his cheek against the sheet. "What of…Dharr?"

Jarille placed a comforting hand on Jericho's arm, and glanced at another pallet off to the side. "When he was first brought in we were obviously concerned by the amount of blood saturating his robes and the paleness of his skin. I personally conducted the examination and I am pleased, as well as puzzled, to announce that Dharr suffers from only a stomach wound and a slight concussion. His condition has stabilized and he briefly regained consciousness long enough to ask for you."

"Shakar Allah…shakar Allah…" Jericho murmured as he finally surrendered, and slipped into waiting and comfortable realm of slumber.

"Rest easy, ya raZir bero," Jarille crooned as he watched the warrior's eyes flutter shut. As he began to meticulously sew the arrow wound closed, he silently prayed that the rest of the missing warriors, along with the chieftain, would return to the citadel safe and unharmed.

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He never saw the ethereal beauty of the silvery pale moonlight that danced across the rolling dunes…

…he focused on the path ahead as one hand absently stroked Reyhan's back.

He failed to see the twinkling splendor of the night sky, a velvet canopy studded with a thousand tiny points of light…

…his mind struggled to expel the horrific images of seeing Reyhan cruelly tied to a wooden cross.

He withdrew both mentally and physically, struggling to escape the unending waves of pain from his injuries, the ache in his heart more prominent. Each shuddering breath he took reminded him of how precious life was, even as his own flowed from his body in several thin scarlet ribbons. Left in the horse's wake were hundreds of tiny ruby colored droplets scattered across the sand, leaving a sinister trail to follow.

The flames of humanity that burned in Nabil's silvery eyes were slowly fading, but he tenaciously clung to the saddle as the deserted temple of Ma'at finally came into view. He guided the horse towards the crumbling structure as his body began to sway, and managed to bring the exhausted animal to an awkward stop.

With a soft sigh, Nabil slumped over Reyhan and closed his eyes, needing to rest for a moment so he could regain his strength. The world tilted precariously and Nabil abruptly slid from the saddle, crumpling to the ground with a low moan. Consciousness ebbed and flowed, making him vaguely aware of the passing of time…time that Reyhan didn't have.

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"Haun, shirb." [Here, drink]

Ardeth pulled his attention away from the almost indiscernible maroon colored trail they had been following and blinked in surprise at the water pouch that suddenly appeared in front of him. "Shukran, ya sahib," he murmured absently as he took a swallow of water.

Kedar stared across the vast rolling landscape and sighed, shoving a hand through his wild mane of hair in frustration. "Nabil should have gone back to the city," he muttered. "I do not understand why he would take Reyhan to an abandoned temple, and deny his brother immediate medical treatment."

"Nabil's acts are born out of desperation and fear, hindering any good judgment. Perhaps he took Reyhan to the shrine because he believes in the power of ancient deities. It is written that Allah helps those who help themselves," Ardeth replied.

"Or perhaps he hopes that a benign power still resides at the temple," Kedar theorized as he gathered the reins in one hand.

"I find that I cannot fault Nabil for what he has done. If the roles were reversed, and I had to save your life, I would do whatever necessary to ensure that I do not lose my best friend," Ardeth stated quietly.

Kedar raised an eyebrow at Ardeth's words. "You are not getting sentimental now, are you?"

"We rode through the legions of Rwalla-Hunud and came out of the adventure almost unscathed," Ardeth said with a wan smile. "I suppose some of my emotions may lean towards sentimentality."

"As long as you keep them to yourself and do not try to hug me, I am happy," Kedar snorted, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. Abruptly the humor faded as he voiced his greatest fear. "We will not reach them in time. You do realize that, aiwa?"

Ardeth nodded as he shifted in the saddle, securing the pouch over the saddle horn. "In the months to come Nabil will need the support of his warrior brothers as he struggles to cope with Reyhan's death. I will give what is essential to help him; I can do no less for a friend."

"And what of you, ya sahib," Kedar asked as he tilted his head to one side, studying his chieftain. "What will you need in the months to come to erase the images of this night?"

Ardeth remained strangely silent as he gave the signal to ride. He alone would bear that burden in the dark hours of the nights to come…

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_Journal Entry date: 1895_

_The Season of the Floods_

_Midnight___

_"Weary that I am, I find that slumber eludes me this night, yet my exhausted body craves rest and with it the blessed release from this reality. I leave my pallet in an effort to dispel my sense of foreboding and seek solace within the comforting and familiar pages of my journal. I am compelled to record the events of this day and state for the generations to come – the Medjai have been both blessed and cursed._

_Praise to Allah, most merciful, that I am able to record that my people are jubilantly celebrating the birth of the __Chosen__ One. His entrance into this world came as the god Ra began his eternal ascent into the morning sky today, bathing our world with his warm and golden glow. Fitting that the heir to the Twelve Tribes of the Medjai, the chieftain of our people, should arrive in the moment when time stands on the precipice of a new day. May Allah bless and watch over the babe, named __Ardeth__Bay."_

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Nabil cradled Reyhan's body in arms that were so weak that they trembled from the effort, and leaned back against the fluted column, resigning himself to his fate. His dull gaze darted around the empty and crumbling outer temple, vaguely acknowledging the still vibrant hues of the hieroglyphics that adorned each wall, paying homage to the goddess Ma'at. Lacking the strength to rise, he stared at the steps in front of him that led to the innermost chamber of the temple to a shrine built of wood, where the statue of the goddess was situated.

"Ajab Reyhan…do not leave me, ya ukh…" Nabil whispered as he leaned over to one side in an attempt to ease the pain radiating from his side. "You are my brother…blood of my blood…live for me…even as my own life…starts to fade."

Nabil fumbled through his robes and managed to pull out the specially designed dagger he had hoped to present to Reyhan as a gift. He shifted his brother's body so that it lay on the ground, and then struggled to hold the dagger aloft, fighting to remain conscious long enough to recite his prayer.

"H-hail to thee, goddess of justice…and goddess of right," he began. "Daughter of Ra, thinker of logic, with thee comes order to chaos, truth to falsehoods and the turning of wrong to right."

Suddenly the dagger slipped from Nabil's fingers and tumbled to the ground. He crumpled moments later, fighting to remain conscious as his body continued to weaken at an alarming rate. "Accept this token in supplication of the warrior before thee…" he gasped and then continued, "Weigh his life against the wrong done unto him…judge him…in the light of truth…t-take me in my brother's place."

A strange peace settled over Nabil as his breathing became shallow; he fought to keep his eyes open just as he repeated the prayer again, hoping that somehow the ancient deity would hear him. "…judge him…in the light of truth…t-take me in my brother's place. Take me…in…my brother's place."

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"_The name Raphael in Hebrew means healer or doctor. Raphael is known as "the medicine of God" or "the shining one who heals." Raphael is associated with the symbol of healing, is entrusted with the physical well-being of earth and humans, and is said to be the friendliest of angels. Raphael is the angel of joy, light, peace, prayer, and love."_

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_Journal Entry date: 1895 _

_Continued_

_"Let it be known that also on this day, in the hours of twilight, and before the world is enveloped in the dark cloak of night, Raphael Abu al Khayr_ _is born_. _His tribe also celebrates his birth for he bears the sacred birthmark of his ancestors near the corner of his left eye. _

_His parents, Umran and 'Abal Juhor, rejoice in the birth of their son, deeming his name is befitting of one that comes from a long and prestigious line of healers. Umran confessed to me that he has great hopes that Raphael will one day be blessed with the 'dahab hass' or golden touch. The ability to heal with the laying of the hands over the wound is a skill that has been lost to the Medjai for thousands of years. _

_And yet on this night, I believe that with the birth of light, there must be the birth of darkness, perpetually balancing the scales. Dare I confess my fear to the tribal Elders that Raphael, a child destined to be one of light, could slip into eternal darkness if his powers ever manifest themselves? Surely, our enemies could seize the chance to strike a fatal blow to the Medjai by using a means that no one would ever consider… _

_May Allah watch over and protect both __Ardeth__Bay__ and Raphael Abu al Khayr_ _as they grow from baby to toddler, from young boy to warrior and healer. And may my greatest fear never come true – that Raphael's powers for doing good will congeal into an instrument of evil. _

_And kill the __Chosen__ One."_

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He stood braced against the stone wall leading to temple courtyard and hid his face against his arm as he listened to the dying warrior's heartbreaking petition to Ma'at. Torn between his duty as a healer to help those in need, and the selfish desire to remain hidden from the cruelty of the world, he battled a war within himself. He had hoped that the temple would have provided a much-needed haven for him to recuperate from his captivity by the Syrians, expelling the demons they had unleashed with their torture. He needed to regain control and hide the deadly talent his captors had brought forth, a product of endless beatings.

They had gleefully called it the black send, he called it an abomination.

They had forced him to use it on the innocent and unsuspecting, honing his talents for the true kill. He would always remember the faces of those condemned to die a cruel death, their screams of agony echoing endlessly in his mind.

All that was good and right in him urged him to step forward and reveal himself, offering to heal them both by using his special ability. The darkness that continually battled for dominance in his soul surged upwards, and pushed away all good intentions, declaring that the warriors' fates were not his concern. Their lives meant nothing to him, nothing at all.

"Weigh his life… against the wrong done unto him…judge him…in the light of truth…t-take me in my brother's place."

His head snapped up when he realized how weak the warrior sounded; he was so close to death. He took a deep breath for courage and stepped away from the wall, cautiously approaching the injured men from the side, his hands held out as if in surrender. "Peace be upon you, warrior," he called out gently. "I mean you no harm."

Nabil grunted in surprise as the stranger slowly came closer, and he struggled to protect Reyhan, despite the man's placid greeting. Panting from his efforts, Nabil was horrified to discover all he had the strength to do was cover Reyhan's body with one hand. "Who…are you?" he rasped.

As if in response, the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon in the east, and bathed the other man in a warm golden glow. It highlighted the deep brown color of his eyes, and accentuated the wealth of curly hair that framed his masculine face, its length falling to his broad shoulders. His robes were dirty and torn, but there was no mistaking the crescent shaped birthmark near his left eye.

"Ana ismee Raphael," he said distractedly as he knelt down beside Reyhan's body. Sorrow flared up in his eyes as he skimmed one hand over the bruised and bleeding flesh of the young warrior, his heart aching over the obvious signs of torture.

"I can heal you both if you will let me."

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_"Let it be known, children of Egypt, that in the hour of death, the god Thoth will weigh the heart of the deceased and hold him accountable for his actions during his life." Medjai Chronicles_

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"You need to return to the city as I have instructed," Sharif stated evenly, acutely aware that his orders would most likely be ignored by the elder warriors. Haytham was watching Solman being placed on a carrier and Zaki was staring at him with a perplexed look on his face. "The Elders wish for all warriors to return as soon as possible; I am merely their messenger."

Haytham snorted. "You mean their lapdog?" he asked sardonically.

Sharif bristled, his amber colored eyes snapping with ire. "I am no one's lackey."

"The wiser choice would be to go after our chieftain," Zaki tactfully interjected and shot Haytham a meaningful glare. "Once he and Kedar find Nabil and Reyhan they will need our assistance. No one questions your sense of duty, ya sahib," he continued as he placed a hand on Sharif's shoulder, "but the Elders are only concerned with Ardeth's wellbeing."

"They are more concerned with who hold the reins of authority," Haytham snorted. He turned to Sharif and gave the younger warrior an apologetic smile. "The Elders are only to advise; we obey the dictate of our king. And we honor our vow – protecting our warrior brothers."

Sharif threaded his fingers through his thick, curly hair as his gaze darted between Haytham and Zaki. "I only wish to do what is right," he said softly.

Makin snorted and clapped Sharif on the back, nearly knocking his friend off his feet. "Then it is settled – we go after Ardeth and Kedar. I look forward to the ride; maybe we will come across a retreating Hunud and I can remind them just how skilled a Medjai is with his scimitar."

"Finding our missing brethren alive and well is all that matters to me," Jameel stated emphatically, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Makin's last comment.

"Considering the events I have participated and witnessed over the past several days, I am almost tempted to join you," Yousef said with a faint smile. "However I am certain that Drevick will need me in the days to come, and wish to return to my village as soon as possible."

"You are leaving, Tuareg?" Makin asked with feigned disappointment. "We have yet to schedule a sparring match."

Yousef gave Makin a droll stare as the other warrior's groaned in mock complaint. "Be careful of what you ask for, Medjai, for you may get it. I leave you in peace, protectors of man. You have done well this night."

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_A/N – Never fear, my lapse in updating wasn't because of another scarab infecting my computer. Lol Web site server woes have knocked my friend's site off line and we're scrambling to come up with a solution. I'm filled with a sense of sadness that this story is drawing to a close, but I'm turning my evil eye towards Heroes and the sequel to "Somewhere In Time." So much to write, as always, so little time. _

_Special thanks to DreamShel for composing the prayer to Ma'at. Shukran! And to both Shel and Serena for listening to my idea's and answering my questions regarding the scene where Raphael is introduced. _

_This is an abbreviated shout-out to you all: Dawn, Serena, Karri, DreamShel, the Kidd Mdd [who was kind enough to email me to make certain everything is okay. smiles], LadyBug1, JeanB, and we can't forget Nakhti…thanks for always leaving some feedback, and letting me know that this story was worth reading. _

_There's more to come, but if you think things are starting to settle down now…heh heh. Peace and thanks again for reading! [waves] _


	24. Part XXIII

_XXIII_

An hour later the two factions separated and rode out in different directions, scattering like grains of sand thrown into the wind.

The Medjai knew from life-long experience that the Sahara was a harsh mistress and dedicated themselves to following the sporadic trail left by Ardeth and Kedar's horses. Time and wind were now the enemies they fought; their scimitars remained sheathed. Observation and cunning were the weapons of choice and they were wielded without restraint.

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Nabil squinted up at the almost angelic looking face of the stranger, and felt a strange sense of déjà vu sweep over him; he had seen this man before but where? Unable to maintain this thought due to his awareness rapidly fading, Nabil was mesmerized by Raphael's hands as they skimmed over Reyhan's body, coming to rest over his face and heart.

"Let me take him from you," Raphael gently coaxed. He moved his hands under Reyhan's arms and pulled, warily watching the older warrior's expression.

"La..." Nabil weakly protested and tried to reach for Reyhan.

"Sahil...sahil," Raphael crooned to Nabil as he laid the younger warrior's body on the ground. "I can help. You must let me, ajab." He brushed back the damp hair from Reyhan's face with fatherly affection and looked up at the older man. "Tell me your names," he coaxed.

Distracted, Nabil replied as he stared at the healer's hands once again hovering over Reyhan's body.

Raphael looked up at Nabil, and the fear of what he was about to do showed clearly in his face. "You must remember this in the days to come, do you understand? No matter what happens you must remember this kindness."

Resting on his side, Nabil caught the dread in Raphael's voice and panicked, fearing that Raphael would do more harm than good. "What...are you...going to do?" he groaned as he tried to reach Reyhan; his hand clawed at the floor, leaving tiny furrows in the dirt.

Raphael ignored Nabil's struggles and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he turned inwards and centered himself. "I am doing what I was born to do," he replied moments later, his voice several octaves lower as he felt his power surge to life within his hands.

Raphael's body stiffened as the power arced out of his body and shimmered and danced over Reyhan until he was completely encased within its golden glow. The healer almost wept as his ethereal form invaded the young warrior's body, and began assessing the damage; Reyhan was losing the will to live. His spirit was so tired...so battered.

Enthralled by the awesome and incredible display of the dahab hass, Nabil stopped struggling as his body finally succumbed to its wounds. He tried to keep his eyes open as the healing continued and was immensely gratified to see Reyhan slowly begin to move. Instinctively he knew that Reyhan would live, that he would return to the citadel and hopefully assume his rightful place in the warrior sect.

Reyhan would be Nabil's successor and their blood would be honored for generations to come. As he felt his heartbeat slow and the wracking pain in his body start to fade away, Nabil heard the distant sound of Raphael's voice coaxing Reyhan to live.

Silently he added on his own encouragement as he finally slipped into oblivion...

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Two warriors brought their tired and lathered mounts to an abrupt stop outside the old temple and dismounted, jumping to the ground and pulling out their scimitars with fluid ease.

Unsheathing their weapons was a precaution, although both men doubted there would be any need, and they hurried through the long hallway that led to the outer temple.

A sudden cry of pain made them run and they charged into the room just as Raphael concluded the healing.

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"istayqaZa bero," Rapahel shouted triumphantly as he fought to withdraw his powers; like a greedy living entity they fought for freedom. "istayqaZa and live to see your warrior brothers rejoice at your return to them!"

Reyhan suddenly drew in a shuddering breath as his eyes fluttered open. He coughed and immediately reached up to touch his wounded shoulder, the horror of it still fresh in his mind. His hand shook as it gingerly probed the area and he frowned when the skin felt smooth and unblemished. His gaze darted up to the man bending over him and his eyes widened in alarm at the strange golden glow that lurked within their depths. "M-m-min...?" he croaked.

Victorious from his inner battle, and jubilant that he had successfully healed Reyhan, Raphael slumped forwards as he wrapped his arms around himself. "Worry not, bero," he said to Reyhan as he fought down the encompassing vulnerability that always followed a healing. "You are once again healthy and whole."

Reyhan swallowed and nodded his head as memories from the night flooded his mind. He gasped as his body still tingled and hummed from Raphael's touch; his heart soared with the realization that he was alive. And then it plummeted when he remembered another...one whose voice had invaded his subconscious and had pleaded for him to live. "Nabil?" he asked and pushed up on his elbows as he searched the interior of the temple, ignoring the gentle fussing from the other man. "Where is Nabil? I know...?"

The words died in Reyhan's mouth when he saw his older brother's body lying a few feet away from him in a slow, ever widening pool of blood.

"Oh Allah..." Reyhan groaned and he turned to Raphael, collapsing since his strength had yet to fully return. "Help him...ajab!"

Awkwardly Raphael scrambled over to Nabil, inwardly cursing himself for failing to recognize the signs that the shadowy specter of death had been hovering over the warrior. Ignoring his own debilitating urge to rest and rejuvenate, he placed his blood stained hands over Nabil's pale face and injured side, once again calling forth the power that resided within.

"Get away from him!" a voice suddenly bellowed from one side of the room.

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Kedar's battle cry rang throughout the temple as he and Ardeth charged; his eyes were black with rage since he believed he was attacking a man who had dared to hurt one of his best friends. Consequences from his actions would be dealt with later, once Nabil was safe from any further harm.

"I have Reyhan," Ardeth shouted as he veered away from Kedar and ran over to the younger warrior. He skidded to a stop as Reyhan tried to sit up, and he almost dropped his scimitar from shock when he saw that all of Reyhan's wounds had miraculously vanished.

"Ya ra'is," Reyhan gasped as he slumped to the ground, frustrated that his body could not comply with his demands. "Stop Kedar...Raphael is...trying to save Nabil."

"Reyhan," Ardeth breathed in amazement and fell to his knees beside him, reaching out to touch his shoulder reverently.

Immersed within, Raphael was unable to defend himself from Kedar's attack as he concentrated on controlling his power and using it to restore Nabil. Just as it started to boil within his body, the darkness residing in his soul flared up and viciously fought for dominance and freedom. His meditation was shattered when he felt a sharp pain flare up in his shoulder, and with a cry he pulled back, falling to one side.

"SarSur! Jaban!" Cockroach! Coward! Kedar snarled as he yanked his dagger free from Raphael's shoulder. "Leave my friend alone and come test your mettle with me; I promise that your death will be quick and painless."

Raphael's eyes changed into twin pools of black fury as the light in his soul was overshadowed by darkness; his lips curled up in a defiant snarl. His hand clenched into a fist and it crackled and sizzled with negative energy. "No one will ever hurt me again!" he shouted and threw his hand out, unleashing the black send with malevolent glee. It shot out and hit Kedar squarely in the chest, knocking the warrior back several feet.

"Do not worry about me...get to...Nabil," Reyhan pushed Ardeth away just as Kedar's body sailed through the air.

Ardeth jumped to his feet in surprise and stood protectively over Reyhan as his gaze darted from Kedar back to the other man. "Kedar?" he called, unable to focus on his friend lest the man attack again.

Kedar rolled to his hands and knees, staying on all fours for a few moments while he tried to catch his breath. He would never admit to anyone that it felt like he had been kicked in the chest by a camel. "It is nothing..." he quipped as he shook his head. "Just a...little scratch."

Ardeth held out one hand to the stranger and made the sign for peace. "I mean you no harm," he stated quietly as he assessed the other man's appearance, noting the birthmark near his eye. "I only want to check on my warriors, and take them back to the city. They are both in need of a healer."

Raphael's head snapped up from the sound of Ardeth's voice and the hatred inside of him flared up. The lessons and brainwashing from the Syrians flowed through his body and the insatiable desire to fulfill their subconscious demands was almost too hard to resist.

Almost..._they are both in need of a healer...of a healer...healer. _

With an agonized groan, Raphael clamped down and fought back his demons, until his thinking became clear again so he could act. He lunged for Nabil, intuitively knowing precious minutes of his life had been lost and called on his power just as his hands touched the fallen warrior's body. His own wound could wait until later.

"La!" Kedar shouted as he jumped up to his feet. He ran over to Nabil and stopped when Ardeth held him back; transfixed, he watched as yellow light poured out of the man's body and covered Nabil's.

"The golden touch," Ardeth breathed in awe. He pulled Kedar down to Reyhan's side and together the three warriors watched as the healer bravely fought a battle against death.

Several tense minutes passed as the silent war waged on, and the warriors softly called out encouragement to the healer. Nabil started to move restlessly under Raphael's hands and when the healing reached its crescendo, he cried out as his body arched off the ground. The light flared up, illuminating the outer temple and highlighting the tributes to Ma'at so brightly that it seemed the goddess was alive and observing the scene below.

The healing unexpectedly ended and as the light receded, Raphael's body slowly melted to the ground, his strength almost spent. Aware of his captive audience, but too tired to acknowledge the multitude of questions he knew they would ask, he reached up to his injured shoulder and quickly healed the wound.

Nabil regained consciousness just as Raphael was starting to slip into nothingness. Dark brown eyes met and held the steady and clear gaze of gray ones as they looked at one another. "Remember...your promise," Raphael whispered before he finally passed out.

Kedar crawled over to Nabil as Ardeth took care of Reyhan, his eyes suspiciously bright as he gathered his friend into a brotherly embrace. "That is quite a sahib you have found there, ya ukh," he remarked with a tired smile.

"Reyhan...?" Nabil whispered and turned to look at his brother lying a few feet from him.

"Nabil..." Reyhan replied with a tired smile as Ardeth covered him with his robe.

Reunited at last and healed, the two brothers fell asleep, secure in the knowledge that Ardeth and Kedar would keep them safe until reinforcements arrived.

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The outer temple was warm and bright from the sun's rays as the golden orb continued its eternal ascent into the morning sky. The oppressive shadows of pain and despair had been dispelled by a form or means that neither Ardeth nor Kedar could articulately comment on.

Amusement laced heavily with joy infused the conversion as they decided what the next course of action should be; the immediate need to return to the citadel had vanished within a golden haze.

"Can you explain something to me?" Kedar asked as he sat with Nabil, leaning against a column. His body was sore and ached, but nothing could dampen his happiness in having both warriors returned to him, safe and unharmed.

Ardeth gave his friend a slight smile and shook his head as he leaned over and checked on the sleeping Reyhan. "I already know what you will ask," he said and nodded his head towards the quiescent form of Raphael.

Kedar snorted, his dark eyes sparkling with humor. "You are a seer now, eh? You can read my mind and know what I am about to ask?"

Ardeth narrowed his eyes as he struggled not to laugh. "You have no mind," he retorted as he gently lifted Reyhan's head and placed it in his lap.

"Remind me to pay you back for that comment, ya sahib," Kedar grinned.

Now it was Ardeth's turn to snort in disbelief. "I am certainly frightened by your threat. By Allah, look. My hand is shaking."

The amusement in both warriors suddenly faded when they both saw the maroon tinted skin and they instantly sobered, realizing how close they had all come to losing their lives.

"Who is he?" Kedar asked softly as he stared at Raphael. "Where did he come from and why...how has he managed to stay hidden for so long despite his incredible gift?"

Ardeth leaned his head back against the wall, contemplating Kedar's questions as he studied the inert form of the healer. "I had received a report from one of the Medjai outposts several months ago, stating that Raphael Abu al Khayr had disappeared from the healer's compound. I sent a squadron of warriors to investigate the matter and they reported that he had been captured and killed by the Syrians."

"Did the captain of the squad have proof?" Kedar asked.

"He claimed he witnessed Raphael's death," Ardeth sighed. "I had no recourse but to order them to return to the city, and have the investigation closed."

Kedar glanced over at Reyhan and then Nabil, before his gaze finally settled on Ardeth. "Then Raphael's power is greater than we could ever imagine, for obviously he has somehow brought himself back to life."

Ardeth was saved from replying when they heard a shout come from outside the temple. Recognizing Haytham's whistle that followed seconds later, he smiled at Kedar. "The reinforcements have arrived."

"I cannot wait to see their faces when they discover Nabil and Reyhan are alive," Kedar said.

Ardeth looked up through the gaps in the temple ceiling and stared at the cloudless sky. "It is a good day to live, ya ukh," he said softly as one hand rested on Reyhan's shoulder.

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On the crest of a dune that overlooked the Medjai city, a black armored warrior plunged her war spear deep into the sand. Her horse nervously sidestepped and snorted as the banner tied to the spear's tip fluttered ominously in the sudden breeze.

With raw hatred shimmering in her dark eyes, she regarded the city with obvious disdain, her lips curling up into a snarl of fury. Oh how she longed to pull the spear free and rally her warriors for battle, charging down the plains like a black raging flood and attack the city.

Instead her chosen path was one of surrender...for now.

"We need to return to the camp," Damya-Ultafa urged. She hated the idea of going into a forced seclusion as much as she hated what the Medjai had done to her people.

"I am well aware of what we must do," Markunda-Tagwizult snapped. She looked at the spear, and decided to leave it as a message to all the inhabitants of the Sahara. The Rwalla-Hunud would return some day and soon, and woe to the unwary traveler who had the misfortune to cross their path.

Markunda-Tagwizult gave the signal to ride and as the black riders raced across the sands, the tide of evil receded from whence it came. Like an infection, it would hide and fester, swelling with hatred...

...growing in power.

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_A/n – insert dramatic music here...lol Time for the shout-out's and for those who I owe a review, it is coming...I promise. ;-)_

_**Karri **the site is back up for now, and we've learned a good lesson in getting a reliable host. Thanks for asking, and of course for reading. You think all is well now...hah!_

_**Dawn **No need to bite your nails, see? Raphael has done something extroidinary; Nabil and Reyhan are once again healthy. One must wonder now what Ardeth will do with such an incredible young man. Thanks for reading! _

_**SerenaFehr **Nabil gladly sacrificed whatever was needed so that Reyhan lived. The depths of his feelings for his brother continue to grow because having him is such a blessing. Thanks for reading!_

_**The Kidd Mdd **Replying to your question – what do you think? LOL Makin is just the right comic relief needed for a moment of levity but as for Berin, ask and ye shall receive. Prior to the conclusion of this story, all of you will get a preview of what's to come for him. Trust me when I say it's necessary..._

_Thanks one and all for reading and leaving some feedback! Peace! smiles_


	25. XXIV

_XXIV_

_Six days later…in the Tuareg encampment _

_"I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away…  
The worst is over now and we can breathe again…" _

_Broken" Seether/Amy Lee_

_-----_

Tella leaned back in the chair and pressed a hand in the small of her back in an attempt to relieve the ache. She looked down at the pale face of her son, and sighed, believing he would never regain consciousness from the delirium that gripped him so tenaciously.

"Wake up, beloved," she whispered as she leaned over him, tenderly brushing the damp tendrils of hair from his face. "I miss you so very much. I want you to open your eyes, so I can see the light of your soul that burns within you. Your father misses you as well and fears that each breath you take will be your last."

Tella intently searched her son's face for any indication he had heard her and she bent lower so she could whisper in his ear. "Prove him wrong, my son, as you have always done in the past. He believes you will die…wake up, and show him. Show them all."

The minutes crept by as Tella waited for Drevick to respond. Disappointment clouded her eyes when he failed to do so and she sat up, determined to keep her vigil until she was no longer needed. She reached for the small basin of water and cloth she had been using to cool down Drevick's body but in her haste and exhaustion she knocked it off the stand. It fell to the carpeted floor with a crash and shattered, the water immediately absorbed by the thirsty material.

With a small cry of anguish, Tella sank to the floor as tears of frustration trickled down her face. A shadow suddenly appeared in the entrance, and just as she looked up to see who it was, she was enveloped in Lewnis' strong embrace.

"My love," he crooned as he picked her up, cradling her against him. "I heard you cry out and I thought…"

Tella started to weep even harder from the anguish she heard in Lewnis' voice. "You believed Drevick had passed," she softly sobbed.

Lewnis nodded his head, unable to speak past the sorrow that lodged in his throat. "What happened?" he asked several moments later after he managed to compose himself.

"I wanted to…the basin…Drevick's fever," Tella sniffled as she rubbed her nose against her husband's robes.

"If you two…are finished holding one…another," a young voice croaked. "I could use a…sip of water."

Tella gasped and slowly turned around, pulling free from Lewnis' arms. "Drevick?" she whispered in disbelief and sank down into the chair by the pallet.

"I heard you…calling to me," Drevick replied with a faint smile and reached for her with one hand.

Tella gave a small cry of happiness and gently embraced her son. Lewnis came up behind her and silently pulled them both into his arms as tears of joy welled up in his dark eyes. They stayed that way for several precious minutes, silently rejoicing that they were once again reunited as a family.

As Drevick nestled his head on his mother's shoulder, he felt his father's hand lovingly stroke the back of his head. He gave a ragged sigh of relief as he felt the need for sleep pull at him, but before he slipped away he had to ask the one question that continually plagued his heart.

"What of my…friend Reyhan?"

-----

_…in the city of the __Medjai__…early morning._

"Well, that was not as bad as I had originally feared," Kedar said as he passed through the gilded doors that led to the counsel room. He held one open and stepped to the side as a grim faced Ardeth walked by.

"I thought the Elders were very generous and understanding," Haytham remarked as he walked behind Ardeth. "They appeared to be quite mollified by Ardeth's resolution, which came as quite as surprise in my opinion."

"They were subtly reminded about their place in the hierarchy," Zaki stated with an arched eyebrow as he followed Haytham, allowing the doors to swung shut behind him. "Despite Councilor Thias whining and complaining like an old woman," he added with a quick grin.

The three warriors stopped near the windows that overlooked the gardens, and continued to discuss the meeting that had just convened, forgetting Ardeth, who walked ahead. They never saw the large dark shadow that darted out from a nearby column to follow him, and were conveniently distracted when suddenly Itosh joined them.

"What do you want?" Kedar growled in lieu of a greeting at the gloating warrior.

-----

"Ajab, ya ra'is, I must know. How does it feel?"

Ardeth stopped walking and turned around, blinking in surprise when he saw Thias walked towards him. "Councilor, I do not understand your question," he replied with a slight frown.

Thias smiled slyly and folded his hands behind his back, slowly stalking the warrior in front of him. He hated the poise and demeanor that Ardeth possessed, the quiet dignity and nobility of his character. Most of all he hated that Ardeth wielded the power that he believed himself the better man to hold.

"All of your wayward warriors have triumphantly returned to the city, have been treated for their injuries, and are in recuperating in a private sector of the city. Such surprising and joyous news to learn while in counsel, and the Elders were so pleased that they forgave your lapse in communication with us all."

"An oversight, I can assure you," Ardeth replied smoothly.

Thias smirked. "You have received them back like a father welcoming his sons home, and have apparently forgiven them for their traitorous actions. Even Commander al Fa'ud, who stood accused of the reckless endangerment of his life and the lives of others, is given a light punishment: thirty day's suspension from active duty. How does it feel to have his blatant disregard for orders reduced to nothing more than a so-called brotherly act of love?"

"The Elders agreed with the verdict," Ardeth tersely stated.

"The Elders are blind to the truth, to the obvious favoritism that you bestow on a select group of warriors," Thias snapped. "What about the two men waiting for sentencing in the stockade? Are they not worthy of your 'special' attention, or since they do not meet your unwritten royal criteria will they suffer the same fate as a common criminal?"

Ardeth placed his hands on his hips as he stared at the agitated older man, his dark eyes snapping with fire. "Comparing Commander al Fa'ud to the two miscreants who disobeyed direct orders and shot Reyhan Abbasi for a false infraction is an insult. And one I will not forget. They were granted a tribunal, and were given several opportunities to defend their actions."

Thias snorted and waved one hand in the air. "Ah, aiwa. Let us remember that the mighty chieftain of the Medjai treats all of his warriors equally and without preferential treatment."

Ardeth tilted his head to one side, shrewdly assessing the other man. "Are you questioning my actions, Councilor?" he asked, the tone of his voice deceptively soft. "Or are you letting your hatred for ya sahib Nabil, and your own devious ambitions, rule your thoughts?"

Thias leaned over and whispered in Ardeth's ear. "There will come a time when your actions will be questioned, and discredited. A storm is brewing and dark clouds appear on the horizon. Choose your shelter and companions wisely, lest you are swept away and buried somewhere in the desert."

Ardeth flashed a cold and deadly smile. "I look forward to the challenge you present, Councilor." He turned and indicated an infuriated Kedar backing a stammering Itosh towards a column. "And I believe I have chosen my friends quite well."

-----

"…ever again, I will take great pleasure in gelding you like a stallion," Kedar growled at Itosh. He slammed his forearm under Itosh's chin and pressed, delighted at the mottled color that suddenly flashed across the other man's face.

"Itosh is not a stupid man, and would never dream of challenging you either in the council room or sparring match," Haytham interrupted and placed a gentle yet restraining hand on Kedar's shoulder.

"Threatening me changes nothing," Itosh gasped as he squirmed. "Commander al Fa'ud's day of reckoning is coming and I, for one, shall look forward to his ruin. His blood is not pure and he has no right holding a position of authority within the warrior sect."

"I am not of the blood," Zaki snarled as he crowded Itosh on one side, his golden eyes blazing with anger. "Are you looking forward to my demise as well?"

"At least I thought Itosh was not stupid," Haytham deliberated as he thoughtfully scratched his chin. He watched with a slightly amused expression as Itosh struggled under Kedar's arm like a scarab pinned by the sharp point of a dagger.

"Know this," Kedar hissed and applied more pressure to Itosh's neck. "If I ever learn that you have threatened Nabil, Reyhan, or any of my warrior brothers, I will come hunt you down." Every other word was accentuated with additional force until Itosh's face blazed bright red. "And when I am through with you, there will be nothing left to run through a sieve****. Have I made myself clear?"

"Kedar, release him," Ardeth commanded. "Councilor Thias and Itosh were just leaving, and I have no wish to delay their departure any further."

Kedar hesitated and almost smiled at how much Itosh was squirming. "I am still waiting for an answer, dog," he said.

"A-aiwa…I understand," Itosh wheezed as he tried to pry Kedar's arm away from his throat.

Thias turned to Ardeth with a smirk on his face. "Oh indeed you have chosen well," he said and gestured to Kedar, Zaki and Haytham. "Their conduct so eloquently speaks for itself; I am impressed with your choices."

"You are dismissed, Councilor and if I have any further need of you, I will immediately send for you," Ardeth ordered and signaled for two guards to come forth.

Thias stiffened at the escort but wisely held his tongue. He walked over to the stammering and gasping Itosh, and with a meaningful glare at all of the warriors, finally walked away, sulking.

"Strange that once we thought the Tuareg were our enemies," Zaki stated quietly as he watched the men walk down the hallway. "We now know that somehow the enemy has breached the city and now resides within."

-----

_He felt them burrowing under his flesh, skittering up his arms as they dug deeper in preparation for the feast. His hands clenched into fists as his body arched off the pallet, and his mouth opened in a silent scream of terror. _

_The scarab larvae began methodically digesting the muscle, sinew and tendon of his shoulder, the pain unbearable. He struggled to free himself but so many hands held him down, and the fear of dying in such a manner almost drove him insane. His rage was fueled by his helplessness and his eyes were wild with fright, darting among the leering faces, looking for someone…anyone to come to his aid._

_"Reyhan__, my stubborn camel."__ Muhjah-Aji suddenly appeared by his side, her eyes glowing with affection and happiness. "My love, I am here to help," she crooned as she raised her hand, the gleaming metal of the blade flashing eerily in the light. _

_Reyhan__ tensed in anticipation of the blow and he tried to avert his gaze, unwilling to witness the crude extraction of the insects that were eating him from the inside out…_

_He screamed moments later when Muhjah-Aji plunged the dagger deep into his chest, over and over again…_

_-----_

_A/n – metaphor borrowed from S Kenyon's "Night Embrace." Zarak is one bad, mad and immortal dude. I highly recommend reading her series; her male characters are to die for…wubba wubba. On to the shout-outs and many thanks to my wonderful beta, Serena, for her assistance. smiles_

**_LadyBug1_**_ – Thanks for taking the time to leave some feedback. You know I appreciate your trust in letting me play with your boys. There's more to come for Raphael, fear not…heh heh_

**_Dawn369 _**_– Your sense of trouble for Ardeth is more accurate than you think; trust them but don't hold your breath. The sequel to "Somewhere In Time" is coming next. Thanks for reading! waves_

**_The Kid Mdd_**_ – ahhhh, my good and loyal reader.__ Sounds like to me you're in for all the rides, and my warriors and I appreciate that. Remind me to send you some hair color for the next set of stories, okay? This chapter was quite powerful, especially Nabil and Reyhan's reunion but you know me, it ain't over yet. Heh heh Stay with me…waves_

**_Karri – _**_Thanks for the review and I'm leaving a few for you today. It seems like forever since I've read your awesome story. _

**_SerenaFehr_****_ – _**_Raphael's power is something to be respected and feared but I didn't want it to come off as a simple light show. The Hunud will vanish for now but I see the queen's hatred for the Medjai eventually consuming her, and prompting her to do something rash. Thanks for reading!_

**_Desperate _**_and I have been corresponding about the twists and turns in the sequel to "Somewhere In Time." If not for her input, that story may have sat for a few more months. Sometimes a review not only inspires but leads to a much needed discussion to hash things out in my mind. Thanks very much, my friend!_

**_Nakhti_****_ – _**_Weee__! Lookout, Nakhit can leave reviews again! Run for the hills. LOL! Update and conclusion, you ask? I can do the one, and the conclusion is coming. I'm kind of sad to see this story end but then again, when do my stories really end? _

_Peace y'all and thanks! _


	26. XXV

_Part XXV_

Reyhan bolted upright on the pallet with a hoarse cry, his eyes wide with fear from the horrific images from his nightmare. His heart hammered wildly in his chest and he fell to one side, his hands clutching at the bedcovers as he struggled to regain his composure.

"I am here," Nabil said gently as he suddenly appeared by Reyhan's side and reached for his brother. "Sahil…sahil."

Reyhan jerked away from Nabil's outstretched hand with a snarl and threw himself off the pallet, landing on the floor in a shaky fighting stance. "Stay away from me," he growled and blinked furiously to clear his vision.

"I am not the Hunud," Nabil calmly stated as he walked around the pallet, his hands held up in surrender. "Look with your heart, and then your eyes, ya ukh. See me for what I truly am."

Reyhan rubbed his eyes as their gazes met and held. As the fog from the dream lifted, he realized he was in Nabil's quarters within the citadel, safe from further harm. "I know you," he sighed and sat down on the edge of the pallet. "It is like looking into a mirror, and can be most unsettling."

Nabil smiled faintly as he sat down next to Reyhan. "SamaH ana for my disheveled appearance. I was napping when I heard a noise, and neglected to cover myself with a robe."

"At least you are wearing pants," Reyhan replied with an identical smile. "Not like the last time."

"I heard you cry out in your sleep, and came rushing in, without regard for my state of undress," Nabil explained and then paused for a moment. "Your rest has been sporadic since…"

"Why did you come for me?" Reyhan interrupted, reluctant to discuss his recurring nightmare. "Why did you risk your life to free me from the Hunud?"

"I had no choice. You were a brother warrior in danger," Nabil replied and instantly regretted the words once they left his mouth, fearing Reyhan would misunderstand.

"Our warrior oath prompted your actions?" Reyhan asked, his heart heavy with disappointment from Nabil's confession.

Nabil sighed and shook his head. "What I meant to say is that I came for you because you are of my blood. I could not let you die at the hands of the Rwalla-Hunud; my heart would not allow it. You are the response to a childhood wish; you are the brother I always wanted and I would do anything for you. If I were asked would I do it again, my answer would be aiwa."

Embarrassed but very pleased by Nabil's declaration, Reyhan's gaze darted from the floor to ceiling arched windows that gave his chambers a spectacular view of the surrounding landscape. The closeness that was developing between them was a cherished and much wanted gift. "Brothers should be with brothers," he stated softly.

Nabil smiled as he stood up and stretched, the overwhelming need for rest that had plagued him since returning to the citadel gradually dissipating. "You speak wisely for someone so young."

"I am only two summers younger than you," Reyhan chuckled as he watched Nabil walk over to the windows. He remained thoughtful for a moment, and then had to voice his primary concern. "I came here seeking a man I believed was my brother; I met a good and honorable warrior who saved my life. I wanted to be reunited with the last of my kin and have been. Now I must ask – will you accept or deny the blood claim?"

Nabil blinked in surprise from Reyhan's question and turned around to face his brother, placing his hands on his hips. "Why in the name of Allah would I want to accept your claim?" he asked mildly, as a humorous sparkle came into his eyes.

"I would have thought…I had hoped," Reyhan stammered and threaded his fingers through his hair in frustration. Immediately he felt foolish for believing that Nabil would welcome him as a brother and failed to see the faint smile dancing across the elder warrior's face.

Nabil walked back to Reyhan and stopped in front of him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I am only teasing," he said with a laugh, not wishing to see Reyhan so rattled. "I will summon a messenger and have the announcement posted by nightfall. Ardeth has already obtained the Elders approval and has given his blessing."

Reyhan was unable to stop the hopeful smile blossoming across his face, the first real joy he had felt since returning to the city. "I have a brother," he remarked softly.

"As do I," Nabil replied with a grin. "And best of all, I can finally issue orders to someone who has no choice but to obey them. After all, we are blood."

Reyhan blinked in surprise from Nabil's statement. "Well yaha. What in the name of Seti have I gotten myself into?"

88888

"There are times when I am concerned about you, ya saHib," Ardeth stated as he and Kedar continued down the hallway towards Nabil's quarters. "You cannot lie to me. You enjoyed torturing Itosh perhaps a little too much."

Kedar chuckled and shrugged his broad shoulders. "Itosh is a coward and caters to Thias' every whim like a lapdog. It does his ego good to have someone remind him once in a while exactly what his position is within the warrior sect."

"He was denied a promotion again?" Ardeth guessed as they approached the large double doors.

Kedar nodded his head. "Coincidently his prior commander was Yunis and both he and Captain Cohan gave less than commendable reports about Itosh's behavior on the battlefield and within the unit. The reason for the denial of his advancement was just."

"Agreed. However I cannot help but feel that he will blame his floundering career within the warrior sect on those he feels responsible," Ardeth stated as he knocked on one of the doors.

"So he and Thias will try to sabotage Nabil's place within the sect, so Itosh can be nominated as the replacement," Kedar guessed.

Ardeth flashed Kedar a grim smile. "Thias wants my position as chieftain," he clarified just as the door swung open.

"I would have wished you both a 'good morning', but considering the topic of conversation, I am uncertain as to whether it is still good or not," Nabil stated as he warily eyed the warriors in front of him.

Kedar raised an eyebrow. "At least you are wearing pants this time, ya ukh. Big improvement from the last time we came calling."

"There is that dormant warped sense of humor rearing its ugly head once again," Nabil quipped as he gestured for Ardeth and Kedar to come in.

"Must I keep informing you, Nabil?" Ardeth dramatically sighed as he passed by the gray eyed warrior. "Kedar has no sense of humor. None at all."

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"Shukran," Ardeth said graciously as he accepted the glass mug of mint tea from Reyhan. He leaned back and studied Reyhan with a critical eye as the young warrior served Kedar, looking for any lingering side effects from his ordeal. Appearance would have led him to believe that Reyhan was completely healed but the dark shadows that lingered beneath his eyes contradicted his conclusion.

Kedar gave a good natured groan of contentment as he shifted in his chair, and leaned his head back to enjoy the warmth of the morning sun. The warriors had gathered outside on Nabil's balcony to enjoy the cool morning hours before the heat became unbearable. "It is a beautiful day," he commented and looked up at Nabil, arching an eyebrow in question. "Have you eaten the morning meal yet?"

Nabil blinked in surprise from the question as he finishing tying the robe's sash around his waist. "I could send for a platter of fruits and cheeses, but Reyhan and I were going to visit Salma Aludra's prior to your arrival." He handed Reyhan his robe and motioned to the sash.

"Food is not the topic of conversation, Kedar," Ardeth stated. He smiled slightly as he watched the interaction between the brothers and heard their good natured bantering. He glanced over at Kedar, and knew that his friend was thinking the same thing: the ride into the Rwalla-Hunud encampment had been worth the risk, and the happiness shining in Nabil's eyes confirmed it.

"Ajab, samaH ana for the lack of preparation for your visit, ya ra'is," Nabil asked as he gestured for Reyhan to sit down.

"I am hungry," Kedar admitted as he sat up in his chair and looked at Reyhan. "Could you still have someone send over something that's a bit more substantial?"

"I do not know," Reyhan looked helplessly at Nabil.

"There is no need to address me so formally, ya ukh." Ardeth tried to ignore Kedar's question to Reyhan. "I come as your friend, although the news I bring may dampen your high spirits."

Nabil's eyes clouded with concern and he absently toyed with his mug, running his fingers around its rim. "You have news about Berin," he said quietly.

Ardeth nodded his head, noting that Reyhan leaned closer to Nabil in a silent act of support; the bond between them was growing stronger. "I received a message from one of the patrols; they have lost Berin's trail near Mallawi. Considering the ever changing desert environment, I was quite amazed they were able to track him and even more surprised that Berin had ridden that far despite his injuries."

"Berin is a capable, skilled warrior," Kedar tried to comfort Nabil as he thought about their blood brother oath. "He knows the climate well, and has most likely sought shelter in some small village we do not know of."

"It is possible," Reyhan said softly. "I do not know Berin as well as all of you, but I have learned much from the stories Nabil has told me over the past few days. The Honored Second is a strong and stubborn man; he is alive and is most likely recuperating from his wounds."

"Berin is alive," Nabil stated firmly. "He will return to the citadel, and if he does not, then I will go search for him. I will not rest until I know his fate."

"I am afraid that I am also the bearer of additional news," Ardeth announced and pulled a small parchment from his robe's pocket, handing it to Nabil. "The Elders have passed judgment regarding your actions, Commander, and as your chieftain I am to give this to you."

Nabil read the decree and silently passed it over to Reyhan with a deep sigh of frustration. "If I am relieved of active duty for thirty days and required to spend my time here in the citadel, who will conduct the search for Berin?"

"I will make sure we continue the hunt until we have exhausted all possibilities," Kedar said.

"As will I," Ardeth placed a hand on Nabil's shoulder. "There are times in which I must act as your king, and there are times in which I have to act as your saHib. Berin is also ya saHib, and the uncertainty of his fate does not sit well with me. On my oath as a warrior, I pledge to you that I will find him, and bring him home."

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_A/N – to make up for the lapse in updating, I'm submitting this chapter tonight, and will update again on Friday. This one is a shorty but I strongly suggest that you don't unhook your seat belts just yet, there's more to come even as this story winds down. I also apologize for not reading/reviewing like I should, and I have to forgo the shout-out's on this submission for now…too long to explain but I gots to get to bed soon. Early morning hours and I do not get along. Anywho, I digress. Special thanks to those who faithfully read and review, you have my gratitude for not slipping away. _

_Remember, this will be added on to Friday! Insert dramatic music if you'd like…lol_


	27. XXVI

_XXVI_

_The next day..._

Despite the cloud of apprehension that lingered over Nabil in regards to Berin's fate, he realized that life within the city continued much as it always did. The vendors in the market still opened their stores or set up their carts, and enthusiastically tried to sell their wares. Groups of veiled women hurried to and from their various chores, sometimes carrying bags of food or baskets of soiled laundry. And the men gathered in the tea shops to discuss the latest news and barter over the price of a mule or wagon.

The city teemed with life and as Nabil and Reyhan walked through the marketplace, it was hard to believe that nearly two weeks ago the threat of war had almost destroyed everything. The Medjai people were in high spirits and their infectious good mood soon ensnared the brothers.

Nabil had decided to forego their traditional warrior garb, and at his suggestion they were attired in a more informal wardrobe. He soon learned that no matter the apparel, be it warrior or private citizen, the female populace congregated to them like bees attracted to sweet smelling flowers.

Normally shy and reserved in such social situations, Nabil was truly amazed as numerous mothers and aunts stopped Reyhan often, lovingly patting his broad shoulders and welcoming him to the city while they'd speculate among themselves his marital status. The younger maidens always stood to one side, and shyly watched the exchanges with great interest, often giggling when Reyhan or Nabil jumped from a well meaning hand that strayed too far below the waist.

More than once Nabil had to expertly extract them from a situation where they had been surrounded by a gaggle of women, and with Reyhan in tow, they raced down to the street only to be confronted with another small group of determined women.

"Are the women of the city always this...welcoming?" Reyhan had to ask after the last encounter. He struggled to keep the smile off his face as he watched Nabil scrub his cheek with the end of a sleeve.

"Ya sitti Fatima always had a particular fondness for me," Nabil said, sounding bewildered. "I had no idea that her enthusiastic affection would carry over to her daughter."

"Or their neighborhood," Reyhan snorted and gestured to a spot Nabil had missed. "Assimi-what-was-her-name really liked you."

Nabil stared wide-eyed at Reyhan. "She patted my..." he paused for the appropriate word.

Reyhan's laughter, so pure and carefree sounding, rang out and Nabil blinked in surprise from the joyous noise. "She squeezed mine like a ripe melon," he laughed and clapped Nabil's shoulder.

A slow grin danced across Nabil's face and he gave a silent prayer of thanksgiving for the simple fact that they were together. Eventually he sought refuge and led Reyhan to the warriors' sanctum, which was situated near the stables and corrals. Surrounded on all sides by high stone walls, he breathed a sigh of relief as they walked into the cool interior and down the tiled hallways. Nabil proudly showed Reyhan the walls that were filled with shelves laden with thousands of books, ranging in topics from astronomy and geometry to the chronicles of the Medjai.

They walked through the small eating and living space out into a larger courtyard and Nabil explained that this was where the warriors trained and held sparring sessions. To his delight, a session was already in progress and the combatants were none other than Dharr and Jericho, both warriors obviously recovered from their injuries.

Makin, Sharif and Emir were standing to one side, cheering the combatants on as Solman, Haytham and Zaki stood nearby, deeply involved in a discussion about the design of a confiscated Rwalla-Hunud spear. Talib and Madjy sat nearby in a small shaded patio and each seemed absorbed in reading a large, leather bound book. Occasionally Talib would gesture to Madjy for the other warrior to come over, and Nabil could only surmise that the warrior, who loved to research and analyze myths and legends, had found something else that piqued his interest.

"Do all of the warriors stationed within the city come here?" Reyhan asked as he observed several other groups of men around the area.

"Ardeth wanted to create a haven for those who needed a temporary reprieve from duty," Nabil explained with a smile. "While one must always exercise the body to keep it toned and fit, one should never neglect to exercise the mind."

"The books," Reyhan supplied.

"It is one of Talib's favorite places to visit," Nabil would have explained further but a cheer coming from the sparring ring caught his attention.

"What is happening?" Reyhan asked as both men stared at the ring that was filling up with jubilant warriors.

Nabil's smile was slow and genuine, full with the profound relief that Jericho had indeed made a complete recovery; the wound on the back of his shoulder had caused the healers a great amount of concern since the arrow had almost severed a tendon. "It would appear that Jericho won the match," he said.

The victor stood in the center of the milling crowd as they congratulated him, his sable colored eyes bright with happiness, and a smile of pure enjoyment on his face. His broad tanned chest heaved from his exertions as tiny rivulets of perspiration meandered down to his waist and with a deep, hearty laugh, Jericho raised his scimitar and saluted Dharr.

"Well done, ya sahib," he called out over the crowd. "You have done this old warrior a great service by testing the limits of my strength and cunning. I was beginning to fear that you would never tire."

Dharr flashed a dazzling smile and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm. "Next time I will not be so lenient, ya ukh," he said with a laugh. "My arm aches from the force of blocking your blows."

"Is there going to be another session?" Makin asked eagerly.

Nabil and Reyhan laughed and shook their heads at how quickly he was informed that there would be no more for the day. As the brothers walked away from the ring, they could hear Makin pleading for someone to volunteer, anyone at all.

"Makin is...extremely likeable," Nabil offered as they walked back into the building. "And as the cloak of maturity settles more firmly around his shoulders, he will become a great warrior."

Reyhan's reply was interrupted when a messenger appeared in front of them, handed Nabil a rolled parchment, and then graciously took his leave.

"What is that? More news from the Elders?" Reyhan asked, fearing that Nabil would be additionally penalized for his actions in saving him.

"It is a formal request from Ardeth to meet him at Salma's tomorrow, two hours past dawn," Nabil replied as he read the note again.

"A meeting with the chieftain of the Medjai at Salma's? Is that not a bit unusual?" Reyhan asked.

"I cannot say," Nabil stated vaguely as he rolled up the parchment. "Given the events in my life over the past several weeks, clarify unusual."

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Thias stood several feet away from the man sitting in the shadowy corner of the room, and felt angry that his superstitious fear was getting the better of him. However he was desperate to discredit and undermine Ardeth as well as those who were loyal to him; what better way than to monopolize the rumored imbalance that the infamous healer possessed?

"I can assure you, upon my word of honor, that Ardeth has been repeatedly advised of your requests but sadly has been unable to clear his schedule of his more pressing duties," he said with a touch of pity in his tone of voice.

"Ya ra'is is...ignoring me?" Raphael whispered in disbelief.

"I am here on his behalf, and will make certain that he is aware of your needs by nightfall."

"You have not answered my question."

Thias stiffened and managed to contain his triumphant smile as he continued his manipulation. "Ardeth has been delegating some of his responsibilities to his most trusted associates, I being one of them, since his attention is focused solely on the warrior sect. He is not ignoring you, but due to the unrest within the sect, his attention is obviously diverted elsewhere."

"So he sent _you_ in his place? I am to discuss with you the events in the temple, and explain how I saved the lives of two of his warriors, so that it may be recorded in the chronicles of our people?" Raphael leaned forward, his eyes glowing brightly from his mounting anger.

Thias blanched at the simmering raw power in the healer's gaze and yet at the same time felt a thrill; here was a perfect catalyst to use. Here was a man who Thias believed had a weak enough constitution that he could maneuver and cajole him into doing what he lacked the courage to do – kill Ardeth Bay.

"As I have already explained," the councilor replied with an evil smile and stepped forward, as if to embrace the shadows. "There are more pressing issues at hand that demand Ardeth's attention. It saddens me to realize that you are not among them, but take heart...I am here for you. I will gladly listen to you."

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_The next morning, two hours before sunrise..._

He stood at the foot of the pallet and watched as Nabil slept, envying his brother's ability to rest while his repose continued to elude him. Fragmented images and horrific memories of what the Rwalla-Hunud had done haunted him each night, driving away the light in his soul, leaving him always cowering in darkness. Nothing could dispel the nightmares, and they always ended the same – Muhjah-Aji driving a knife deep into his chest, the tip piercing his heart as the love in her eyes congealed to hatred.

He heard Nabil make a soft noise and backed into a shadowy part of the room, watching as his brother shifted on the bed and burrowed deeper into his pillow.

He could hear Nabil's deep and even breathing, the sound somehow soothing and he listened for a few moments, allowing the gentle cadence to chase away any lingering images from the dream.

It had been a habit over the past several nights to come into Nabil's room afterwards, and as he struggled to calm his racing heart and swallow past the fear lodged in his throat, Nabil's presence had unwittingly provided the comfort he so desperately needed.

Like a wraith or shadowy figure from another realm, Reyhan would stand in Nabil's room watching him sleep until the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon. He would then slip out and return to his own chambers to continue the charade that made Nabil believe he had spent a restful night.

Reyhan walked over to the side of the pallet, and carefully, lest his movements disturb Nabil, gently touched the top of his head in a gesture of brotherly affection. "Rest well, ya ukh, and worry not, I shall return shortly," he whispered so very softly.

On silent feet, Reyhan walked out of the room, his mind distracted by remembering the directions the Tuareg messenger had delivered to him yesterday afternoon. He had been walking through the market with Zaki on an errand for Kedar and had been quite surprised when he saw the man lurking behind one stall, gesturing for him to come over. Once he made sure Zaki was engrossed with the vendor selling archery equipment, he hurried over to the man and received the news that had prompted his actions today.

As he silently closed the door behind him, and thought about which trail to take, Nabil opened his eyes...

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"He will not show and this venture into the desert was all for naught."

"He will show," Drevick sighed and rolled his eyes as Yousef continued his maddening compilation of reasons why Reyhan would not grant his request for a meeting. He slumped forward in the saddle for a moment in an attempt to relieve the nagging ache in his side, aware that this telling action would prompt Yousef to revert back to the nagging mother-hen he had become over the past few days.

While he would always appreciate his friend's concern for his wellbeing, Drevick thought Yousef's devotion to his rehabilitation was going to drive him insane.

"You are pushing yourself too hard," Yousef finally commented after a few moments of silence.

Surprised at the underlying tone of defeat in Yousef's voice, Drevick could only stare at his friend in wonder. "You, of all people, realize why I need to do this...why I must see Reyhan, do you not?"

Yousef's dark gaze focused on the surrounding landscape as he gathered his thoughts. "What you once knew as something good and pure has been tainted and forever changed," he finally said. "You seek to grasp what is left of happy childhood memories and reestablish the bonds of friendship with Reyhan. It is your uncertainty if Reyhan feels the same that hovers like a shadow over your heart."

Drevick snorted in surprise from Yousef's astute observation. "Then you understand why I disregarded my father's orders to stay in camp and rest."

Yousef grinned and glanced at Drevick. "You never follow his orders."

Drevick straightened up as the ache slowly lessened, and he wiped the accumulated moisture from his brow. "So to start now would seem fruitless, yes?"

Yousef shook his head as he saw how pale Drevick's face had become. "When you fall out of the saddle from fatigue, and your injury flares up, do not look to me to save you anymore."

"But I always look to you..."

"You can stop now."

"You are my friend."

"No more. Once we return home, I want nothing more to do with you."

"You just say that because you are..."

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_A/n – okay so I'm updating on Saturday instead of Friday, time just seemed to slip away on me...which can be either a good or bad thing. Lol On to the shout-outs..._

_**The Kid Mdd – **Reyhan's nightmare is a result of so many things, but deep down in his heart he still loves Muhjah-Aji. So for him the nightmare is made even worse by the fact that he's 'killed' by someone he loves. Berin's fate is on the way...trust me. evil grin As always, thanks for the email and reading..._

_**Ladybug1** – A true compliment coming from you regarding Kedar's depiction; when you're pleased, I'm thrilled. Thanks for reading, and Nabil and Reyhan's relationship will continue to strengthen as the brothers get to know one another. So now here's a question what does one feed a hungry beast anyways? _

_**SerenaFehr – **So many people concerned about Berin...have faith, all will be revealed in due time. Thanks for reading!_

_**Dawn369 **– Why Dawn, you say that as if you know how I am...heh heh Thanks for reading and I've got to catch up with your "Finding Salvation." It's a great story! smiles_

_**Karri – **Hey now I can write light-hearted, honest I can...thanks for reading, and I'm off to see yours. smiles Ps and yeah, it's Saturday...eeps. Lol_

_Thanks again everyone! _


	28. XXVII

_Part XXVII_

Reyhan pulled his horse to a stop several feet away from the two arguing Tuareg and listened to the conversation, shaking his head in disbelief. His trepidation over agreeing to this meeting was almost alleviated by the humorous bickering but his intentions to announce his presence were abruptly changed by Yousef's comment.

"…in bed for seven days. It amazes me that not only do you have the strength to remain seated on a horse, but that you can manage to quarrel with me at the same time."

Drevick's head dropped forward as a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him. Perhaps Yousef had been right; it was too soon to demand his still healing body to survive a horseback ride out into the scorching desert. He should have stayed inside the cool interior of his parent's tent and allowed the pretty little serving girl named Mareeka to attend to his needs. _She_ was enraptured by his story of how he fought the Hunud, and never once yawned during its retelling like Yousef did.

"Did you hear me?" Yousef asked and reached over nudging Drevick's shoulder. "Are you all right? Are you bleeding again? Let me…"

"No, stop fussing over me, I am fine," Drevick snapped and waved off Yousef's hands. "There is no need to fawn over me like I am a sick little boy. I just want to see Reyhan, that is all. I just want to see if my friend is alive and well, despite the rumors we heard that claimed he had died at the Hunud encampment."

"I am alive, and would appear to be faring far better than you, Drevick Moubaye," Reyhan loudly stated. He almost smiled at the look of astonishment on the Tuareg's faces as he walked his horse closer.

"Well there is a first for everything – a Medjai has managed to sneak up on two Tuareg," Yousef quipped dryly.

"This is not just any Medjai," Drevick replied with a slight smile as his eyes skimmed over Reyhan's face and body for physical evidence of his injuries and finding none. The young Tuareg then decided, with a sinking heart, that the wounds Reyhan carried were on the inside; judging by the haunted look in his eyes they were slow in healing. "I am…pleased that you decided to come."

"I must admit I was surprised to receive the message," Reyhan said.

"Will you two please greet one another properly?" Yousef muttered. "The sooner we conduct this meeting, the sooner I can take Drevick back home so he can rest."

"He has been ill," Reyhan stated the obvious as he dismounted, his gaze skimming across Drevick's face.

"That is an understatement," Yousef said as he watched Drevick's clumsy dismount.

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They faced one another as young men, skilled warriors almost in their prime, yet the small boys who still resided inside of them made them both feel awkward and shy. They stared at everything, the sky, the passing of the sun, or turned their faces into the occasional wind that blew a warm breeze across the sand…everywhere except one another.

They had endured so much, had managed to transcend hatred and prejudice, and yet were almost defeated by the death of one of their own.

"We should end our friendship," Reyhan suggested hesitantly, finally breaking the lengthening silence between them. "To maintain it has cost so much; it cost Tabari his life."

"We should," Drevick murmured halfheartedly.

A few more moments of silence passed and then Reyhan spoke up again. "Knowing you, Tuareg, has been a privilege and honor…"

"Do you remember the time Tabari found the den of desert fox cubs, and wanted to take one home for a pet?" Drevick suddenly asked, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth and fond memories.

Reyhan smiled faintly. "It took us nearly all morning to convince him not to dive into the den head first, and then all afternoon to pull him out. The cubs had latched onto his shirt, if I recall correctly, and would not let go."

"They thought he was a meal, I suppose," Drevick chuckled. "I seem to recall you had a hard time holding his leg because you were laughing too hard. You were no help then, oh mighty protector of man."

Reyhan laughed and shook his head. "Your memory is faulty. You were the one who had trouble holding onto a leg because you were laughing as hard as I. Every time we had managed to pull Tabari up a few inches, a cub would leap up and bite his tunic, pulling him back down."

Drevick nodded his head and moved closer to Reyhan, placing one hand on his shoulder. "I cannot recall who made the most noise – us for laughing, the cubs for barking, or Tabari for cursing at us using the vilest words," he said with a snort.

The smile slowly disappeared from Reyhan's face but he made no effort to dislodge Drevick's hand; it was a sign of their close friendship and he suddenly realized he didn't want to lose it. "I miss Tabari," he stated quietly.

"I miss him as well. But I will miss you even more if we dissolve a lifetime of memories…both good and bad," Drevick said. "The Hunud has taken so much from us and do not argue – I can see the changes in you. We have both suffered but should not allow them to destroy our bond. You and I are friends, Reyhan, and we swore an oath when we were young to always be friends…"

"Until the end of time," Reyhan finished with a sad smile. He paused for a moment, wrestling with his decision and finally came to the conclusion that he hoped was the right one. In his heart, he knew it was and that would give him some amount of peace at night.

Drevick held out his arm. "Until the end of time. Face it Medjai, you are stuck with me."

Reyhan laughed and gripped Drevick's arm in the traditional warrior style. "What have I gotten myself into?"

"Are we happy now?" Yousef's voice floated over the dune he was sitting behind. "Can we leave now or will the two of you start bawling like women over this joyful reunion?"

Reyhan looked at Drevick in surprise. "What happened to the 'good natured' Yousef?" he asked.

Drevick gave the dune obscuring the man in question a droll stare. "He was faced with the possibility of a future without seeing my handsome face every day and it changed him."

"I heard that!" Yousef shouted as he scrambled up and over the dune with an expression of righteous indignation on his face.

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As the two men started their good natured quarreling, Reyhan's heart felt a little lighter, and that brightness brought the first tendrils of hope. Like the new green shoots of a plant seeking nourishment, they spiraled up towards the sun…towards the sound of laughter…towards the light…leaving the darkness behind.

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Salma Aludra stood in the middle of her well equipped kitchen and commanded her subordinates as if she were leading them into battle. With her hands placed firmly on her ample hips she expertly orchestrated the symphony of food and drink, sending tray after laden tray out to the tables for her guests. No one dared to complain about her strenuous work ethics for Salma paid her workers quite well, her reputation as a good but shrewd businesswoman known across the Sahara.

Salma grabbed a tray filled with several steaming pots of varied flavored teas from the nearest table and handed it to a young girl. "Step lively, and do not dally. Our chieftain dines here today with his men and I will not have my good standing ruined by your need to daydream."

"Aiwa, ya sitti." The girl bobbed an awkward courtesy and hurried from the room as Salma turned to another worker and stopped her before she could go any further.

"You…what is your name again?" she asked the dark haired girl and paused for a moment, finding the young woman's dark exotic beauty quite surprising.

"Mernissa, my lady," the young woman replied and gave a slight bow.

"Look at me," Salma instructed softly and placed her fingers under the girl's chin, lifting it upwards. Her eyes roamed over the dark, mysterious eyes, the copper colored skin and the luxurious mane of hair that hung down her well proportioned frame in a thick braid. Taking the edge of her sleeve, Salma rubbed the girl's cheeks for color, grunting with satisfaction that she had managed to find a treasure amongst her serving girls. "You are assigned the main table where Chieftain Bay sits with his commanders and warriors. Do not gawk or stare at the men, be quick and efficient while serving them, and always make sure that whatever they want or need is quickly fulfilled."

"Yes, my lady," Mernissa replied stiffly as she endured Salma's continuing attempts at enhancing her appearance. "May I ask a question?"

"Aiwa," Salma replied, distracted as she struggled to rearrange Mernissa's shapeless tunic into a more appealing angle.

"How will I be able to tell that I am serving Commander al Faud and his brother?"

Salma's eyes narrowed from the odd question and she stepped back as her gaze drifted down to the hem of Mernissa's robes. "Since you are a stranger to the city, I shall answer your inappropriate question and thereby appease your curiosity. Look into the eyes, girl, look for the eyes colored like the steel of a sword. Then you will know you have found them. Now go, and heed my words."

"Yes, my lady," Mernissa murmured as she lifted the tray to her shoulder.

"Perform your task well, and tonight you will be richly rewarded," Salma called out after Mernissa, and blinked in shock when she realized that the girl was strong enough to carry a heavy tray and keep the tray from wobbling, carrying it with fluid ease for one so small of stature.

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Mernissa skirted around several tables filled with warriors, and held tightly onto her tray as she kept her gaze focused on her assigned table. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the infamous Medjai chieftain, his handsome visage almost making her lose her grip. A brilliant white smile flashed against a face tanned by the elements and framed by a neatly trimmed black beard. Eyes as dark as the deepest catacombs of a pyramid sparkled with humor and happiness as he talked with those around him; Ardeth Bay was in high spirits this day. Mernissa instinctively knew that he was surrounded by those he trusted and cared for the most.

As she walked closer to the table, she was able to catch snippets of conversation and saw how often Ardeth would consult with another warrior named Jericho, or lean towards the other side and confer with a different warrior whose face was marked by a diagonal scar. It did nothing to detract from his appealing good looks, but enhanced them, giving him a wild, almost beast-like appearance. The conversations varied and were laced with humor, politics and a debate about changing the Medjai's choice of weapon, the scimitar, to something new.

"Jameel," a warrior called out over the din. "Tell us again what you tell all the young maidens about your love of the stars. Emir has yet to hear it."

Mernissa saw a curly haired warrior shake his head, as a boyish grin flashed across his face. "That is our secret, Madjy…"

"…spear has excellent reach. I had the opportunity to closely examine one the other day," a massive warrior commented to his friends.

"We have all had that chance, Makin," a warrior named Solman retorted much to the delight of those around them. "I do not wish to examine one ever again."

Laughter and a chorus of heartfelt agreements followed that last comment as the occupants of the table heartily agreed. The topic turned once again to other matters and as Mernissa came to the edge of the table, she stopped short when she noticed the two warriors with long, dark hair sitting in front of Chieftain Bay. When one of them suddenly turned around and looked up at her, Mernissa instantly knew she had found what she had been searching for…what she had risked her life for…the eyes…eyes as gray as the sky before a storm stared at her in open admiration, and then flickered with unease. Mernissa needed no introduction for she knew who he was, but one was suddenly given by his companion.

"Reyhan, stop staring at the serving girl and let her set the tray down on the table. I believe Dharr is so hungry that he may start eating his plate," the warrior with identical gray eyes stated with a laugh.

Mernissa clutched the tray and felt the first pinpricks of dread in her heart; Reyhan was staring unabashedly at her as he slowly stood up. Had he somehow recognized her as a Rwalla-Hunud? She wanted to step backwards but couldn't move as he reached out to touch the tray. A small smile graced his attractive face as he gently pried it from her hands. "Allow me," he murmured as he set it on the table.

"Reyhan has made a new friend," Sharif noted with a laugh, and his observation started a new topic of conversation around the table.

Mernissa, much to her dismay, felt her face burn from her discomfiture and she tried to flee, only to be stopped by Reyhan's hand touching her forearm. "Do I know you?" he asked softly, still staring at her face.

Mernissa shook her head, wisely remaining mute, as his brother also stood up. "Is something wrong, ya sitti?" he asked her. Again she shook her head and fled back to the kitchen, only to have Salma send her out again minutes later with another tray.

She heard Reyhan call to her but she ignored him, and was quite relieved that the interest the brothers had in her gradually diminished through the morning hours. Near noon Ardeth stood up and made a brief but moving speech that brought the occupants at the table to their feet. Earnestly they swore their allegiance and loyalty, a gesture made even more potent when as one they went down on one knee in profound respect and allegiance before their king.

When it came time for the warriors to leave the establishment, Mernissa found it hard not to laugh along with the other women as they watched Salma fuss over each and every man. She would envelop them in a motherly embrace, kiss their cheeks several times, examine or complain at how thin they were, and send all of them running with one simple question.

"Are you courting any young maidens for marriage yet?" was truly the catalyst that sent the brave warriors running for their lives.

Her mission completed, Mernissa seized the chance to escape when Salma was occupied by a small crisis in the kitchen, and ran out a side door. She leaped onto her horse and raced through the city streets, refusing to stop until she was safely outside its walls.

_A/n double shot...;-)_


	29. Conclusion?

_Conclusion…??_

Horse and rider galloped over several miles of desert landscape, finally coming to rest near a small outcropping of rocks that faced the city. She pulled her horse to a quick stop, and jumped out of the saddle with the fluid grace that had been bred into her people for thousands of years. She hurried to a small cave nestled in one wall, and ducked inside the cool interior, her vision adjusting to the dimly lit area until she saw Igmi kneeling beside a mound of blankets on the ground.

"I pray that your scouting trip was successful?" Igmi asked without looking up. He peered down at the linen bandage and sighed with relief; the wound was healing slowly but the stitches were still intact.

The blankets moved. "Tell me…how is he?" Muhjah-Aji's weakly asked question prompted Mernissa run to her friend's side.

"Shshsh," Mernissa crooned to her best friend as she bent down and gently smoothed a few errant strands of hair from her face. "You need to rest; we will talk later."

Muhjah-Aji shook her head as Igmi replaced the dressing with a clean one. "My heart will not allow me to rest until I know…" she whispered sadly.

Mernissa sighed and reached for Muhjah-Aji's hand as if to impart some meager comfort. "I saw him, and he is alive and well," she quickly stated. "He was sitting with his brother and…and…"

"They are handsome," Muhjah-Aji finished with a weak smile as she toyed with the frayed edges of the blanket.

Mernissa returned the smile. "They are. Now you must rest and let Igmi finish tending to your wound."

Muhjah-Aji nodded her head and sighed. "He is alive and my heart soars with happiness. We have lost everything but knowing Reyhan is alive will make our transition into a life away from the Hunud much easier."

"What would make my task easier now is for you to rest, little one," Igmi gently reprimanded Muhjah-Aji as he tied the ends of the bandage around her torso. Minutes later he gestured for Mernissa to follow him and they walked outside the cave, facing the city as the sun reached its zenith in the noon hour. "Where will you and Muhjah go, now that you are considered traitors among your people?" he asked quietly.

Mernissa shook her head, the weight of an uncertain future settling heavily on her shoulders. "I do not know. Perhaps if Uthmann-Dunoud's call for reform is heard, and when the political upheaval within the tribe is settled, we could return."

"You are always welcome in my home," Igmi said as he stared out across the landscape. "Muhjah-Aji is like a daughter to me and my heart aches to think of you both forever wandering the sands of the Sahara, friendless and homeless."

Mernissa stiffened from Igmi's offer for a moment, and her pride pushed aside better judgment until the stark reality of her life softened her reply. "You have my thanks, and perhaps one day we will come see you. For now, it is better that we remain in hiding; we have little choice."

"She surrendered so much because she loves him," Igmi said, referring to Muhjah-Aji's sacrifice for Reyhan. "Will you continue to support her in the days to come?"

"She is my friend, and my only family. We have grown tired of the Hunud way of life, and we have always wanted to seek a better alternative," Mernissa sighed. "She is all that I have now in this life."

Igmi placed a comforting hand on Mernissa's shoulder. "Than I shall pray to Allah that you are successful, and that someday soon all that you have dreamed of will come true."

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_Prelude for what is to come…_

_Good Shepherd Orphanage_

_Town of Minya_

_Same day, one hour after noon_

"Don't move, for the love of God, Sunny, just don't move." Thomas Harwin Payne murmured to his step-sister in a soft chant as he watched the landlord vacate the premises. He clenched his fists with frustration when he heard Sunny's small whimper of distress, a sound he had vowed she would never utter again. The last time Sunny had been this upset was when her husband, Cameron Lafferty, had filed a petition for a divorce, charging that Sonia was unable to perform her wifely duties.

Sonia was unable to bear children and to a man like Cameron, who had greedy visions of building his empire with his sons, this was not acceptable. "No need for reconciliation, my dear," he had cruelly and gleefully informed her the night he moved out. "I've already found a more suitable partner for me, both in and out of the bedroom. Try not to take this to heart; I'm sure you'll find someone who can graciously overlook this simple flaw. Say, someone who doesn't want any children."

Thomas remembered with relish that Sunny threw Cameron out on his ear, and that her dignified husband landed in the gutter along with the other trash. It took a lot to make Sunny lose her temper; usually his sweet step sister had the patience of a saint.

"The blood, Thomas, it's coming out from underneath the bed…" Sonia Elisabeth Lafferty whispered in anguish as she clasped her hands tighter in an effort to stop their shaking. "It's flowing like a small river…oh God."

"Stay strong," Thomas' eyes narrowed as Kasib Mus'ad, landlord and owner of the land that the orphanage was situated on, paused at the front gates. The small rotund man seemed to enjoy tormenting his tenants, and he glanced around the small courtyard as if to procure an estimate of its worth. "The bastard, I'll bet you can't wait until this is all yours, can ya?" he muttered as he pasted a fake cheery smile on his face and waved at the other man. "Wave, my dear girl, and let's hope the son of a…"

"Thomas," Sunny admonished even as she complied with Thomas' wishes. "The children might hear you."

"Son…son of a pig trips and falls on his way out," Thomas' eyes darted over to Sunny. "If he happens to break his neck, all of our problems would be solved. No more ridiculous high rent payments to make, no more of him leering at you as he rubs himself. Hell Sunny, he said he would waive a month's payment if you go to dinner with him. The bastard."

Sunny shook her head and quelled the urge to glance back at the bed, the small narrow bed that had miraculously become too small for the man they had found half dead in the barn four days ago. "I will not wish any misfortune on another human being, Thomas. No matter how vile they are," she murmured as she recalled how the class had been interrupted that day by a few students who had found the man. The children literally flew out of their seats when one of the boys took great care in describing the strange dark tribal tattoos that covered the man's face; they wanted to see him and raced outside. Dignity and decorum were a rarity at the orphanage and no amount of hand clapping or whistling from Sunny could have brought them back.

She had lingered for only a moment in the empty classroom before Umayma's abrupt appearance in the doorway propelled her into action. "You must come, missy," the older woman gasped as she tried to catch her breath from running. "Roshi is with him."

Roshi. Sunny's special little boy, a youngster with sad, dark eyes who had witnessed far too much in his seven years of life. A sensitive mute child who had seen the violent death of his parents, and still had nightmares from it. Sunny had raced from the classroom and in doing so, had unwittingly changed her life forever.

"He's gone. Finally!" Thomas exclaimed and whirled around. Along with Sunny, they dove for the bed and flattened themselves on the ground, peering underneath it.

"I don't know how he did it," Sunny said as her hand frantically swept back and forth, trying to snag a pant leg. "I knew he had heard Kasib coming, but I would have never though he had enough strength to get out of bed, let alone crawl underneath it. Can you see him?"

Thomas ignored Sunny's question as he pushed himself further under the bed, squinting his eyes to adjust to the dark corners. "C'mon big guy, wake up just a little and give me some help here. You're too darn big to move on my own."

"Must…not…be seen," a deep rumbling voice came from in front of Thomas. With a groan the warrior pushed himself towards the two unlikely people who were his salvation; he grabbed Thomas' hand and held on.

"Berin," Thomas sighed in relief.

"You must have torn your stitches open," Sunny said as she crawled closer to Thomas. "Why did you move, Berin? You're still not completely well and your shoulder has yet to heal."

"It is…imperative…that my…presence here remains…undetected," Berin panted as he was helped out from under the bed; the process was slow and methodical as it drained the last reservoirs of his strength. "Mus'ad is…greedy and ambitious…would…use me."

Thomas exchanged worried glances with Sunny once they had Berin free from the bed; unable to lift him they decided to keep him on the floor for the moment and he gestured for her to place her hands over his shoulder wound as he stood up. "You're talking in riddles again," he said to the warrior. "But that's okay with me; I'm more concerned about that hole that refuses to close up. I'll be back with my bag."

"What do you mean 'use' you?" Sunny asked as she stayed over Berin, applying a small amount of pressure to his shoulder while Thomas ran from the room. She nervously chewed her lower lip as her violet colored eyes danced with worry. "And don't tell me it's not my concern; you're in my orphanage, mister. If you've brought trouble here and any of my children get hurt, I will take matters into my own hands."

Berin smiled weakly at the woman hovering above him, a reaction in itself a rarity since he infrequently found anything humorous. Only those closest to him saw the occasional bouts of mirth since Khalee's death had all but taken the light from his soul. "Are…you…threatening me?" he whispered in disbelief as the edges of darkness closed in.

Sunny's heart clenched in fear when she saw Berin's eyes flutter shut. She leaned down as she applied more pressure to stop the bleeding. "Stay awake and find out," she challenged.

"I…I know…where the riches…of Egypt…are buried," Berin sighed and lost consciousness moments later.

"Berin...Berin!" Sunny called out to him, afraid that this wonderfully mysterious man had finally succumbed to his wound.

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_A/N well what can I say? This has been a wonderful ride, one that I've been reluctant to end, but nevertheless end it must. Sorry for the long lapse in the update but RL has turned upside down with the remodeling that's been going on…plus I've tweaked my site, added a few things on, and oh yes…I've started "The Other Side", sequel to "Somewhere In Time." _

_I could go into a long and lengthy shout-out but you know who you are, the ones who faithfully kept reading, the ones who've appreciated my tales of Ardeth and his warrior's adventures. Your feedback often inspired, if not made my day and for that you have my immense gratitude. _

_Dare I hope that you'll continue reading the next story and the one after that as well? Raphael's tale needs to be told next, and things aren't looking too good for Ardeth…you know me, does a story really ever end? LOL Many many thanks to my beta, Serena and to Tori who started to beta this in the beginning._

_Most of all, many many thanks to you, the reader…shukran. Stay tuned…Berin's tale will be coming after "The Other Side", I promise. _


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